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harryhoney-bee · 3 years

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Babymoon

Summary: Harry spent the day with his three years old, but he also loves coming home to his baby mama.

Dad!h <3

word count: 1.3k

Thank you to my friend @harrystyles-tpwk for the inspiration!!

There were a lot of things Harry cherished about fatherhood: watching a little human growing, being the main safe space to someone, guiding their little love throughout life and so much more.

One thing he didn't realize until now is how kids can be little connectors to the parent's own childhood, the experiences children go through also unlock memories in the parents.

When y/n and harry decided to have a babymoon with their little family the man couldn't help but pick Holmes Chapel, they would only be in the little city for a week, traveling to France to spend the next of their vacation there.

But even with the small number of days, Harry was determined to enjoy his time with his two little loves, well, three if you count the 6-month baby in Y/n's belly. Lorenzo was his name, picked by his big sister Cecília, a sweet 3-year-old.

Y/n would describe what she thought he would look like every time before bed, she said she wanted one with the exact same eye color as hers since Cecília got his beautiful green eyes. Harry pictures Lorenzo as y/n carbon copy but with Harry's hair.

They would spend hours imagining the unborn baby and just looking at their already-made toddler. Whenever Cecília was sleeping, the couple would be tracing every line of her face, from her forehead to her chin, mesmerized by what their love had created.

Harry always wanted kids, there was no surprise by that, in the family's barbecues, he could be found playing with his little cousins. While walking in parks he would make silly faces to the children passing by.

He always knew he was supposed to be a parent, a lot of people had calls in life, Harry’s was to create better humans for the world along with y/n, a partner who happily shared his same desires with him.

"The world it's so full of people who didn't grow up with love, I’m sure it would be a better place with everyone had their attention and necessities fulfilled, and I know it's silly, but I think raising a kid it's one of the best things you can do to create a better society," Y/n said in one of their first conversations about if they would ever want kids as a couple.

"They are just small little souls, small pieces of love, there is something so beautiful about that," she continued, with so much tenderness in her eyes.

Needless to say that Harry fell more in love with her that day, proposing to her a year after.

Even though the couple was eager to have their little love soon, they also wanted to enjoy their time as a couple doing things such as traveling and creating memories only with the two of them.

Cecília came almost three years later, she was an oopsie baby, for Harry and y/n surprise. Lorenzo, however, was planned. The baby was gonna have three years and a half age cap with his sister, the couple wanted it to be less, but they struggled to get pregnant for a while.

But now y/n showing a beautiful round belly, Harry couldn't get enough of it, kissing and talking to his baby boy every time.

Even though Harry loves having time together with the whole family, he also knows the importance of having one on one time, especially now that the family dynamics were slowly changing to receive the new baby.

So that's the reason he and Cecília are spending the afternoon together in Holmes Chapel’s downtown. Cecí was sitting in front of him eating a chocolate cupcake (y/n doesn't like for her to eat that much sugar, but Harry let her since it's only for today).

"Did you know this was my favorite treat when I was a kid too, sweetheart? Harry said, eating the same cupcakes as her, "this was the same bakery I used to work at, too."

"Really daddy? Here?" Cecília asked, looking at her dad in wonder, her small hand around the small cake.

"Yeah, fun isn't it?"

"Yes, I wanna be a baker when I grow up," she said, smiling at him.

"Well, I’m sure you gonna be the best baker in this whole world," no matter how much she looked like Harry, the smile Cecília had was always totally from her mother.

"What about we go walk in the park for a bit? Do you want that?" Harry asked, they were almost finished, and the weather was perfect for an afternoon in nature.

When she was done harry was ready to leave, but her small hangs tugged at Harry's shirt, "Daddy, I wanna bring a cake to mommy and baby brother"

Harry looked down at her, taking her in his arms, "You are such a caring girl! Let's get mommy a cupcake then."

"And baby Lorenzo too, daddy!" She pouted

"He's still in mommy's tummy, Cecí, he doesn't eat like us," he tried to explain, while pointing at the different cupcakes on the counter, "what about this one? She loves strawberries!"

"This one daddy! This one!" She peeped

They ended up buying three, one for Anne and Gemma as well since they were staying at their house for the week. Cecília looked happier buying the cupcake for the other than when she was eating one, little-loving baby.

The walk in the park was amazing. Cecília fed the duck and played on the playground, she would also twirl her summer dress whenever she got the chance. Harry also showed her one treehouse he built when he was younger, the little girl was thrilled to see it.

When it was time to come Harry placed her baby seat, both of them singing Queen, when they finally got home Cecília made grabby hands to Harry, who bent down to talk to her.

"Daddy, you tell mommy I bought the cupcake, ok?"

Harry laughed, holding her on his hips while the other held the bakery's package, "Of course, Cecí, you were the one who picked them anyways."

When Harry opened the door and saw his beautiful wife laying down on the couch, feet up because her ankles were really swollen lately. She was watching Mamma Mia, her favorite movie.

"Mommy, mommy!" Cecília yelled, Harry put her down on the floor and gave the bakery package in her hands, "close your eyes, I have a surprise for you."

Y/n closed her eyes, a beautiful smile on her face, one of her hands resting on her bump, "what is it, Cecí?"

Cecília stood right in front of her on the couch, "open mommy."

The woman opened her eyes, being with three cupcakes and a smiling girl, "did you bring this to mommy, baby?" She asked while putting Cecília to sit by her side, "you are so kind, thank you, my love."

Harry got close to the two girls, putting Cecí on his lap and giving y/n a kiss on the lips, "how are you? Is the little guy being good to you?" He asked.

"I threw up three times today, but I'm better now, I just wish this heartburn would stop."

"Baby is being bad, mommy?" Ceci asked, worry on her small face.

"No, love, Lorenzo is a very nice baby, mommy just doesn’t feel good right now."

"I'm gonna make some tea for you, my love," Harry said, kissing her forehead and leaving the living room, only the sounds of the tv and his two girls being heard.

He made tea and three bowls of fruit for them, but when he came back to the couch he was met with Y/n and Cecí sleeping. The small girl with her head on her mother's chest and y/n's hand on her little back.

Harry placed the bowls on the table, taking a duvet and putting on them. He just couldn't wait for Lorenzo to arrive, so they can all be together.

He loved his little family more than anything in the world.

Please come share your thoughts with me, like and reblog!!! <3

#harry styles #dad!h #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurbs #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #dad! harry styles

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revengeisourlullaby · 3 years

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If I Never Knew You Pt.1

Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6

Warnings: 18+, eventual smut, arranged marriage plot, kinda royal au, some fighting, secret relationship, angst.

a/n: This is going to be a six part series. I’ve never done a series before, but I write so much anyway I thought why not make one. I’ll probably upload each part daily unless there is demand for them to come faster. I hope you enjoy. Requests/asks will be open if you wanna send smth to me! Although I will admit I am kinda slow in finishing requests. I have a lot to balance in my life so my apologies if I don’t get to them immediately!

Word count: 1.8K

Loki x female!reader

The sun shone through the window of your home, the golden rays warming up your cheeks and waking you from your slumber. Sitting up, you stretched, feeling the sleep vibrate out of your body. Tossing the sheets off your body, you swung your legs out of the bed and walked to the bathroom to begin your morning routine. Finishing with tending to the mass of hair on your head you trailed back into your bedroom to change into clothes appropriate for the day. An array of dresses always leaving you indecisive about what to wear.

Settling on an olive green one you walked towards the mirror and fastened the ties around the back of your neck. The loose sleeves draped over your shoulders, cascading down your back, and gold accents adorning the neckline. Finding your shoes, you slipped out of your bedroom, closing the door behind you, and walked down the hallway, the chatter of your family becoming more clear as you near the entrance of the main room.

“Good morning, mother. Father.”

It seemed you had slept in quite a bit, given your parents already eating breakfast. Your mother piped up

“There’s a portion left for you on the counter, my dear.”

Eying the food you decided you weren’t all that hungry yet. You had just woken up and your body had yet to settle. Declining, you grabbed your satchel and began to walk towards the door.

“But Y/N, you should really eat something before starting your day.”

“I’ll be fine, Mom. I promise. I’m just not that hungry right now. I’ll eat when I get back.”

Finally reaching the door, your father chimed in,

“You know, Y/N, just because you try to avoid the obvious, doesn’t mean it’s going to go away any sooner.”

Dropping your head, you sighed. You couldn’t seem to escape the duties of being a young woman in a world where royal obligations were something you were expected to partake in. Upon reaching the age of 18, you were supposed to be on the lookout for a decent suitor of a husband. The fact of the matter was, you were now approaching 22 and had yet to find someone acceptable, not only by your standards but by your parents.

For this uniting of peoples would also be a uniting of families. You had until your 21st birthday to find a man suitable to everyone's liking and if you didn’t, arranged marriage was the next option. No one wanted to be known as the woman in Asgard who couldn’t get a man to offer his hand in marriage, yet here you were in all your glory. It was frustrating.

If only they knew.

“I know, Dad. Things are a little bit harder when I have to seek my parents' approval for my marriage.”

Your tone became short, frustrated at the entire situation. You already had someone, for a while now actually, but you hadn’t the guts to inform your parents because you knew they would shut him down. So you loved in silence. It was more than painful, not being able to be truly open with your lover, but you had yet to find the right time to pour out your heart to your family. Taking a deep breath, your grounded yourself and turned towards the door,

“I’ll be back later, I love you.”

Your mom got to responding before your father did,

“We love you too dear. Make sure to pay attention to who you’re around. Be safe.”

Smiling lightly you finally walked out the door and stepped into the fresh air that was Asgard. It never got old. The scent of the trees and freshwater that surrounded this place sent one into such serenity. Just being outside could allow your mind to drift elsewhere and forget about the troubles in your life. Walking as far as you could from your home you spaced out in the direction you were going.

Coming back to when you accidentally kicked a pebble across the ground. Looking up you found yourself in one of the many gardens that surrounded Asgard. Walking to a marble bench, you scrunched up some of your dress in your hands, folding one leg under you before sitting atop it. Crossing your other leg across it and letting the fabric of your dress fall to the ground.

Pulling your satchel into your lap, you grabbed your journal out of it and began to sketch the garden in front of you. Paying special attention to the detail of the flowers, wanting to make sure you entirely captured the essence of their beauty on paper. Lost in concentration, you failed to hear the footsteps approaching behind you. It wasn’t until you felt a hand rub small circles into your shoulder that you turned around.

Hair fell in your face, obscuring your view of who was in front of you. Bringing your hand up to place your hair away from your face you dropped your pen on the ground. You went to reach for it, but a separate pair of hands grabbed it first.

“You seem to be quite the mess today, my darling.”

A genuine smile stretched across your features before looking up into the enchanting blue of his eyes.

“Loki, hi! What are you doing out here?”

Sitting down next to you, careful to avoid your dress he spoke,

“Well, I was informed that a beautiful lady was sitting in the garden in front of the palace so of course, I had to go inspect the situation. And upon seeing a stunning shade of green draped over the bench, I had to introduce myself.”

An airy laugh left your throat, blithe being showcased across your being.

“If I didn’t know any better, it sounds like you fancy this beautiful woman.”

“How could I not? Her beauty extends beyond the physical. She's incredibly intelligent and the only one to unconditionally show kindness and love to those who deserve it. It’d be incredibly injudicious of me to not be aware of that.”

“Alright, alright Loki, you’ve buttered me up enough.” you chuckled

“It’s never enough, darling. And it’s not buttering you up if it’s true, which it is. So, against your wishes, I shall continue to do it.”

You rolled your eyes and smiled. Looking down at his hands, you placed yours on top of his and gazed into his eyes once more. Glancing down to his lips and back up to his eyes, you slowly leaned in, Loki meeting you halfway. A kiss so tender you forgot it was Loki whose lips were tangled in a dance with your own.

Loki moved his hand out from underneath yours and placed it on your cheek. You pulled away from the kiss and nestled your head into his hand, his thumb caressing your cheek allowing you to relish in the moment of being with each other. Flashing your eyes back up to his you asked,

“Shall we go for a walk?”

“Why not?”

Stuffing your journal and pen back into your satchel you untangled your legs and got up from the bench, Loki helping you stand up so that you didn’t trip on your dress. Taking your hand in his own, you two walked through the garden on a path that would eventually lead you to the entrance of the palace.

“I’ve missed you Loki. I always miss you, I hate being away from you.”

“I know my love, I do as well, but you of all people know our predicament.”

You stopped in your tracks and turned in haste to stop him as well, making him face you. You brought both your hands up to cup his face, an idea flashing bright behind your eyes,

“Well, maybe we can change it! We can be the change to get rid of this stupid rule. I can’t imagine my life without you Loki. I don’t want to have to share my world with someone else. It’s only ever going to be you.”

Bringing his hands up to your wrists, he looked deep into your eyes, sorrow and hope swimming behind his facial features.

“Maybe we can, although we have to prepare for the worst...but that doesn't mean we can’t try.”

Giving a small smile, he moved his hands to the back of your head, thumb caressing your temple, and leaned in to kiss you. Giving you all the reassurance you could’ve asked for. Pulling away from each other you continued down the path hand in hand. Closing your eyes you took a deep breath, serenity washing over you.

Opening your eyes, you realized you were closing in on the front of the palace meaning you would now be in the public eye and the last thing you wanted was more gossip to fall upon you. Looking at your lover, you stopped walking, halting him in his tracks. Forcing him to turn around and look at you.

“What is it?”

You sighed, suddenly being overcome with emotion.

“Well, if we walked any further, everyone would see us and I wouldn’t want to cause any trouble for you…”

“...Trouble? For me?”

Loki scoffed, his signature smirk following.

“Love, all I’m known for is for causing trouble, I wouldn’t mind another notch on my belt.”

You were hesitant. You loved Loki and you knew your feelings were reciprocated through him, but it was difficult breaking from the chains of what you ‘were supposed to do’. It left you in such dissonance and yet you felt in your heart to rebel so fiercely that Asgard would immortalize your change. Your silence alerted Loki and he spoke again,

“Y/N, if we are to ever make any sort of change we cannot hide in the shadows anymore. We cannot separate and scatter like roaches when the light is shined upon us. We must bask in it. That is the only way we can possibly aspire to reach our goal of loving one another in true fulfillment.”

“You’re right.”

“I always am.”

You placed your hand back in his and Loki smiled down at you.

“Ready to have the target on your back, Y/N?”

“As long as you’re by my side, I can handle anything.”

Walking out of the secluded area of the garden, you finally stepped into the light. For the first time in the last year being open about your courtship with Loki. Asgard’s God of Mischief and your parent’s worst nightmare. You felt armored for anything to be hurled in your direction with Loki was by your side and always would be.

The anxiety of it all had yet to drain from your bones and you couldn’t help but draft up ‘what ifs’ in your head. As if Loki was scavenging through your brain, he gave your hand an inspiriting squeeze, bringing you back into your body and out of your head. If only you knew how the whispers of your choice in partnership would rain the fires of hell all too soon.

#loki #loki fanfic #Loki Laufeyson #loki x reader #marvel fanfic #loki imagine #loki laufeyson imagine #loki laufeyson x reader #marvel imagine #marvel x reader

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canary3d-obsessed · 4 years

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Restless Rewatch: The Untamed - Episode 02

Warning: Spoilers for all 50 episodes!

(Masterpost ) (Previous Episode) (Next Episode)

Donkey Riding

way ho and away we go, donkey riding donkey riding way ho and away we go, riding on a donkey

Wei Wuxian and Apple are doing their best for the Ministry of Culture and Tourism.

Xiao Zhan had trouble riding the donkey sitting side-saddle, so the Department of Questionable Practical Effects made him a fake leg to wear while riding regular style.

Can you spot it? It’s very hard to spot. It is very convincing.

Simple Pleasures

Wei Wuxian takes his time wandering up the nearest mountain, and half of the cultivators in the land also wander up this mountain because...Night Hunting! The cultivators are hot and thirsty from walking because they forgot that they all know how to fly.

Wei Wuxian relaxes by a well and listens to people stanning him.

Also

I’m going to say it: Wei Wuxian never met a drinking vessel he couldn’t blow.

Everything is Beautiful at the Ballet

The actress who plays A-Yan is named Zhang Linran. She probably has studied dance since she was 4 and now she gets her big break which turns out to be feeding an apple to a donkey. So let’s pause for a second to look at how beautifully she moves.

Reunions are Awkward, Part 1

Wei Wuxian meets up with one of his family members and it goes super well.

I...like Jin Ling? He’s much less of a douchebag than his dad, his uncles Jin, Jiang, and Mo (the three stooges), and every damn one of his Jin cousins. He’s genuinely brave (his Dad’s primary good quality) and his hair is on fleek. He’s still a whiny diaper baby, but I like him.

(much more after the cut!)

Then Jiang Cheng shows up, looking fine as hell and radiating peak arrogant-prick energy.

When he discovers that ‘Mo Xuanyu” stuck a piece of paper to Jin Ling, he tells the child to literally murder him. Excellent uncleing! A+++++ would recommend.

“In fact, literally murder anyone who uses Yiling Laozu’s tools, like talismans, lure flags, or spirit compasses - basically murder everyone in the Lan Clan plus those other fanboys we saw coming up the hill. Then get out there and make some friends, goddamn it!”

These nets full of cultivators on this daytime night hunt are the only time we ever see anything in a net during a night hunt. In fact dudes constantly go night hunting and the only prey we ever see is rock lady, murder turtle, and a couple of rag mops in the lake.

You Are Not Qualified to Speak to Me

Also radiating arrogant-prick energy on this occasion is Lan Wangji. He has been using pettiness as a weapon since long before he met this Jiang Cheng turkey, and he *brings it* when Jiang Cheng tries to have a conversation with him.

Letting your eyes wander everywhere except to his punchable face while you ignore his passive-aggressive questions? Quality work.

Dropping a silence spell on his child and then letting your own child explain it to him? Golden.

Lan Wangji is never ever going to forgive Jiang Cheng for what he did on cliff day, and his silence here is as pointed as an ice pick. I suspect the last words Lan Wangji actually spoke to him were “Jiang Wanyin, stop it,” sixteen years ago.

Jiang Cheng is actually the bigger person in this particular interaction, visibly mastering his temper and telling Jin Ling to take his medicine.

Reflecting

Wei Wuxian hangs out by a beautiful river and hallucinates for a while. River Jiang Yanli is nurturing and River Jiang Cheng is pissed off, so there are no surprises there. River Jiang Cheng thinks that Wei Wuxian is a promise-breaking douchebag. He’s not exactly wrong.

Courtesy of convenient gossiping cultivators, Wei Wuxian discovers that the 16 year old arrogant kid from the Jin clan who his brother from the Jiang clan has custody of is actually and quite obviously Jin Rulan.

Well fuck I guess now I care about something, that’s inconvenient.

Needing to help parent the child of the sister who parented him is what draws Wei Wuxian fully into his new life.

As soon as he has this realization, Apple comes back from roaming around, and never gives him any trouble after this for the rest of the story. Which...probably doesn’t mean anything.

Wen Gravesite

Does Wen Ning hang out here because it’s where he and his (dead) people came from? Oh great, now I am sad.

Judging by all the leaves on this grave thingy I’m going to say that this grave tender dude is, ah, not very good at his job.

Get him, Jingyi!

I feel like maybe we all focus too much on how Lan Jingyi is so hilarious and sardonic and not enough on how he is a such a biscuit.

Soul Grass

As mentioned in the previous post, Chinese spiritual concepts don’t always translate well into English. Soul grass? Sure, why not.

This is where Wei Wuxian’s Sherlock Holmes brain starts to work, although he still doesn’t remember really basic stuff about Dafan Mountain. Dying and changing bodies is rough on the old neurochemistry. This creates more opportunities for flashbacks, however, and if there’s one thing The Untamed deffo needs more of, it’s kissing flashbacks.

Temple Statue

Presumably grave-tender dude is also in charge of clearing away spiderwebs at the temple, because it’s not getting done.

Jin Ling walks into the temple blaspheming at full volume.

Since this isn’t a Greek story, he isn’t immediately struck blind for this. Then when he wishes for the statue to come alive, it obligingly does. Everything’s coming up Rulan!

Wei Wuxian shows up to rescue all the kids by throwing talismans at the monster which does not tip anyone off to who he is.

Baby Cultivator Babysitting

Lan Wangji chills out in the cultivators’ pavilion with Jiang Cheng and their mutual hate boners.

Meanwhile, Wei Wuxian forgets all about his nephew and turns into cool professor guy, explaining the basics of soul-eating to the baby cultivators and gleefully encouraging their fear of Hanguang-Jun’s punishments.

Because the Lan babies are good filial children they are super respectful and engaged with this random adult who is lecturing them. They also - like their own Hanguang-Jun at their age - see and admire Wei Wuxian’s intellect. It’s easy to forget how extremely smart Wei Wuxian is, because of how extremely dumb Wei Wuxian is.

Lan Jingyi suddenly figures out Wei Wuxian is not crazy.

Bis. Kit.

Then Rock Lady shows up and Jin Ling sticks 6 arrows into her while Lans Jingyi and Sizhui stand around not bothering to draw their swords.

I see a lot of comments about the bad effects in the statue sequences but I think Rock Lady is all right. The figure animation is decent and the lighting is no worse on her than on everything else in the scene. Her hair is nice, for a rock person.

Admittedly I just finished watching Guardian which has CGI monsters so bad they may have injured my retinas and possibly also my DNA, so the bar, for me, is pretty low. Rock lady clears it with room to spare.

Note: Wei Wuxian’s flute playing does zippity towards controlling the statue. Not sure what his plan was here.

Wen Ning Kicks Ass

Now we get to meet Wen Ning, who appears to be a stone-cold badass. Later we will discover how hilariously inaccurate that assessment is.

While all versions of Wen Ning are delightful, this version of Wen Ning is also...strangely attractive? He’s got a Patti-Smith-Horses-Era vibe here, instead of his more usual lost-baby-dork vibe. And his dreamy “I have nails in my head” expression is intriguing.

I mean, he’s not a total snack like zombie Song Lan or pre-zombie Song Lan or blind Song Lan or post-zombie Song Lan, but this look is a good one for Wen Ning, is what I’m saying.

Reunions are Awkward, Part 2

Lan Wangji, who has 99% already recognized Wei Wuxian because of the haunted sword and the fierce jawline and beautiful neck and tiny tiny waist, is summoned by his flute playing as inexorably as the Ghost General was.

Jiang Cheng also recognizes Wei Wuxian and goes into full beatdown mode, thwarted (silently) by Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian attempts to preserve his incognito by sassing Jiang Cheng in as sibling-like a manner as possible.

Hanguang-Jun’s Pro-Ghost Agenda Has Been Clear for Some Time

This Jiang/Lan fight is hilarious when you consider the implications.

Macroexpression vs. Microexpression

Mo Xuanyu brought Wei Wuxian back using sacrifice summons, a dark ritual invented by Wei Wuxian that he, most likely, did NOT show to Lan Wangji back in the day. So it’s a pretty safe bet that Lan Wangji doesn’t know that Wei Wuxian was gifted a body, rather than stealing one.

when your brother turns around, you must whip him you will never live it down unless you whip him

When Jiang Cheng lets loose with Zidian, it’s not just because he’s angry. He’s using purple power to force Wei Wuxian’s ghost out of the body he’s apparently possessed. And Lan Wangji instantly STOPS him from doing that.

Clan Leader Jiang: this person has been possessed, against their will, by an evil ghost

Future Chief Cultivator Lan: Counterpoint: I am banging the ghost

Flashback Time

Welcome to your 30-episode flashback!

Once I used to join in Every boy and girl was my friend Now there's revolution, but they don't know What they're fighting

Let us close our eyes Outside their lives go on much faster Oh, we won't give in We'll keep living in the past

Road Tripping to Summer School

Gosh I’m looking forward to younger, kinder, more relatable Jiang Cheng.

...prick.

Incidentally, until now this episode didn’t know that Jiang Cheng has smile muscles, and neither did the person who glued his wig on for him.

I Like Rabbits

Here we have our first rabbit in a large collection of rabbit iconography that appears in The Untamed.

Instead of sending everyone to the Wikipedia page for Tu'er Shen I’m going to take this opportunity to rec the short film Kiss of the Rabbit God by Andrew Thomas Huang (tw: blood, tw:body-mod cutting) which you can read about and watch over at Nowness.com

Particularly if you are a queer person of Chinese heritage, check it out.

So. What the fuck are these? Are they food?

Are they made from wax? Or corn starch? or pig intestines?

Wei Wuxian runs off to get laid drunk and Jiang Cheng grumps about it. Jiang Yanli reminds him that being free is a Jiang Clan Rule, so really Wei Wuxian is following the rules by not following the rules. Does that mean he’s not free? My head hurts.

Jiang Cheng: yes but grump grump grump

Jiang Yanli: Nothing bad will ever happen because of A-Xian’s choices, trust me

Outro

Wei Wuxian faint tally: one Caught by: the cold hard ground

Soundtrack: 1. Donkey Riding by Great Big Sea 2. Living in the Past by Jethro Tull 3. Whip It by Devo

Fic prompt: Lan Wangji’s internal monologue while he sits in the pavilion with Jiang Cheng

If you write a fic from this prompt and want to share, please post a link in comments!

Bonus: Wang Zuocheng, macro-expression king

Episode 03 Restless Rewatch coming soon!

#the untamed #fytheuntamed #the untamed spoilers #the untamed gifs #the untamed stills #my gifs #my stills #restless rewatch #restless rewatch the untamed #canary3d-original #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #lan wangji #lan jingyi #c-drama #bl drama #the untamed memes

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fiddlepickdouglas · 3 years

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Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 17 - With Him

Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, how will it go in the end?, 4.8k

@trevor-wilson-covington is the bestie who makes these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16

One finger tapped on the strap of his fanny pack as Alex listened for the right bus stop to be called. If all those months since he’d seen Willie had been long, this past week had been longer. Especially since the news about Caleb had hit hard and every minute in the studio now felt like the band was precariously teetering on the edge of a cliff. He was going to try not to let any of that get in his way today, though. He’d made it to Saturday and Willie was only a few streets away, and he didn’t care what happened for the rest of the day - it was going to be good.

Finally he heard the next stop announced for where he needed to get off and he pulled the cord that told the driver to make a stop. Stepping onto the sidewalk, his heart bounced around in its chamber like the Tazmanian devil from Looney Tunes. He was glad that Willie lived in the basement of the apartment building he occupied because it would’ve been the worst if Alex forgot which room he was in and spent hours frantically knocking doors.

It was hard to tell if he was moving quickly or if his mind was just racing, but in either case, he eventually found himself at the door. For a second, he simply took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair, trying to get a visual of Willie immediately pouncing on him the moment the door opened out of his head. It wouldn’t exactly be unwelcome, but Alex was realizing how desperate he was to be with him and was amazed at how it affected his imagination.

Lifting a hand, he made sure he knocked loudly. Soon after, the door opened, and Alex was greeted with shining brown eyes, silky, gorgeous brown hair styled into two braids, and a smile he could make home in. Willie.

“Hey, come on in!” Willie was saying, standing to the side and gesturing for him to enter. Crossing the threshold, Alex gazed at the humble space, taking in the details with heightened interest. “This is mi casa!” He began showing Alex around. “We’ve got the main living space, very cozy. The kitchen to your left, but no dining room so it’s all criss-cross applesauce on the floor - makes it extra chill. Bathroom through the back. The sink and shower handles will sometimes shock you, so don’t mind all the electrical tape.”

It was surprisingly accommodating for a dingy basement, and Willie had already made little additions that spoke volumes about him without words. A king size mattress sat in the corner of the ‘main living space’ on the floor with a small bookshelf beside it. The bookshelf only had a handful of cassette tapes and a Walkman lying on top, with a few sketchbooks on the middle shelf. Next to that, the dresser had a small collection of vintage soda bottles and a camera sitting on its surface. Glow-in-the-dark star stickers covered the ceiling above the bed. Even a couple cat toys could be spotted on the floor. Immediately, Alex approached the area where Willie’s desk sat surrounded by sketches hung on the wall.

“So these are your drawings?” he asked, although the answer was obvious. They were so good. Willie followed him over, the squinty smile still in his eyes.

“Yeah. Some are new. Most of them are attempts to recover what Caleb tore up.”

Alex looked at Willie apologetically, even though the loss of Willie’s previous work wasn’t his fault. Without warning, a pressure on his leg and the sound of loud purring announced Sheldon’s presence. The cat looked up at him and blinked slowly, already begging for attention. Heart melting, Alex bent down to pet him.

“Hey, Sheldon,” he said. “I forgot how cute you were!” He smiled as Sheldon rubbed his head against his hand with more affection that he’d likely seen from any other creature on the planet. Well...maybe there was one other that matched it. Alex had heard about how pets could take on the temperament of their owners, and suspected this was a clear example. “He’s gotten so big since I last saw him.”

“Yeah, he’s supposed to be almost two years old, if Escobar guessed his age right.”

Standing again as Sheldon pattered off, Alex returned his attention to the wall of art, looking at the pieces more closely.

“So which one is your dad?” he mused.

Willie untacked one of them and held it out for Alex to examine. “This one.”

Holding the edges carefully, Alex gazed in amazement at the detail Willie had caught. The edges were certainly less defined, but the scene inside the truck was so easy to visualize that Alex could almost feel the leather of the seats and the windchill from the window. He wasn’t sure what began burning in his chest as he peered down at the image, but it was profound and complex.

“I’ve thought about seeing if I could find him, but I think with my memory it’s kind of impossible,” Willie told him.

“He looks so happy here. I don’t get why you would end up as a foster kid.”

“Yeah, I wondered that too. Maybe he didn’t have a choice?”

Alex looked at Willie’s face, and he could tell half of him was lost in a world of what-ifs and other questions. He was always trying to seem so easy-going, and to an extent he truly was, but he couldn’t hide the constant sense of upheaval that rested on his shoulders. At least, Alex was picking up on it more, now that he knew the things he did. He may have been biased, but he couldn’t imagine anyone not fighting their hardest to keep Willie.

Suddenly his gaze was drawn to the unfinished work on the desk, and recognized it as a portrait of himself.

“Wow.” The word fell out of his mouth.

“Oh,” Willie started with a hint of shyness. “Obviously that one isn’t done, so…” He reached to put it away.

“You got that far off of memory, though,” Alex said. “I’m impressed. And you make me look good.” He offered an encouraging smile. “Maybe some time today I could be a model for you?”

Willie cocked his eyebrow, surprise and playfulness making an adorable combination on his face. It made Alex’s smile grow wider.

“Well, we’ve got a whole day ahead,” Willie said. “Your wish is my command.”

“Okay,” Alex said, leaning onto his back foot casually, one side of his lip curling with intrigue. “Well, I wanna see where you go around here. You seem to have a knack for finding the best spots. We can play it by ear.”

“What’s that one song with the one phrase?” Willie asked. “‘Any way the wind blows?’” He sang shyly, clearly playing down what Alex could tell was a nice voice.

“Bohemian Rhapsody,” Alex smiled. Willie’s job at the record store was at least giving him a good taste in music. “Don’t worry, you’ll know everything about the classics once you hang out with me enough.”

An emotion flashed in Willie’s eyes and after a moment Alex realized what those words were actually saying. He held his gaze, hoping he could communicate his intentions clearly, unlike the last time they’d seen each other. Willie swallowed, and his expression remained excited as he loaded his backpack and led them out the door, board in hand. Alex followed him, deciding not to question which direction they were going.

First, they made a stop to buy a bunch of apples. In classic Willie fashion, he went to a bodega, and this time he communicated with the cashier in rough Spanish. Alex knew he was showing off, and smirked at the notion that Willie enjoyed impressing him.

“So what do we need these for?” Alex wondered as they left the bodega. “Besides a ton of apples for lunch.”

Willie’s secretive smile made Alex raise an eyebrow.

“It’s a surprise.”

A little while later, they stood before the most unlikely place in all of Los Angeles: a horse barn. Staring at the building as if it loomed fifty feet above him, hands in his pockets, Alex gulped and a lump of dread landed in the pit of his stomach.

“Oh no,” he muttered apprehensively.

“Oh yeah,” Willie said, turning to him with a thrilled grin on his face.

Alex wasn’t exactly afraid of horses...he just had no idea what to do around them and therefore was not sure what to expect from them. Also, he would’ve worn different pants if he’d known this was on the agenda.

“I promise, they’ve got some really chill horses,” Willie tried to ease his nerves. “I’ve gone on this trail enough times. Don’t worry, you’ll know everything about riding once you hang out with me enough.” He winked as he threw back Alex’s line with a sly smile.

Unable to argue, Alex shook his head and used the hand in his pocket to gesture forward, signaling to Willie he was up to the challenge. He watched him practically skip inside and he had to jog to keep up after him. They signed in and then were led to two stalls.

Willie immediately gravitated toward a tall golden-colored mustang stallion with a dark mane, apparently both already familiar and happy to see each other. Alex watched him gently greet and essentially coo at it while comfortably stroking its nose and then feeding it an apple. He longed to have that sort of talent with other creatures, and simultaneously realized that he yearned to receive that same tenderness.

Once the horses were tacked up and one of the instructors had given Alex some brief pointers on how to ride, he found himself following Willie on a trail while mounted on a painted mare. The only philosophy he could adopt out here was to be gentle and not get lost.

“Not so bad, your majesty,” Willie called over to him.

An extremely nervous laugh elicited from Alex’s throat involuntarily, only making Willie laugh in return. Alex rode a little closer so they were nearly side by side on the trail.

“I’ve been here once,” he said. “I think I was about twelve? My mom thought that it would make me change my mind about taking ballet classes. We rode for maybe fifteen minutes before I got so nervous we had to turn back around and go home. Never made it through the full trail.”

“Man, that sucks,” Willie commented. “I didn’t know you did ballet.”

“Yeah, that and a few other types of dance. I was forced to quit a little couple years ago. That’s about when we got serious as a band, so I just found something else to bother my parents with.”

He could see the gears click into place as Willie came to a few conclusions about his parents and gave an emphatic nod.

“Well, I’ve always wanted to learn how to dance. That was the one thing Caleb had promised to teach me. He’s the worst, but he definitely knows how to dance.”

Suddenly, Alex remembered watching Caleb’s movements when he’d served him and the boys at the diner. Of course he could dance; everything had been fluid and smooth. All he could say to that thought was “huh,” at first. Then after a few moments: “I’ll have to teach you one of these days then.”

Willie’s eyes crinkled at the corners, happy at the prospect.

“Yeah, okay! Add that to our to-do list.”

Alex chuckled. They had a to-do list now. He bit his lip as he continued following Willie along the trail. It was a gorgeous day and in this area the sky was so clear compared to further inside the city. Greatly contrasting his experience from years ago, Alex felt himself become much more at ease and felt confident enough to take greater control of his horse. Willie pulled out his camera and snapped a few scenic photos every once in a while.

Eventually, they stopped at an outlook and Alex had to take in an awed breath. The view was clear for miles all around them. Green hills spanned the landscape in every direction with patches of city speckled in between. Even the ocean line was visible from there. How did Willie know how to find these?

“Hey, Alex!” Willie called, lifting his camera. “Say cheese!”

Turning to face him, Alex flashed a genuine smile as Willie captured him atop his horse against the scenery. He was usually pretty camera shy, but this time he really didn’t mind. Keeping memories like this actually felt important to him, unlike the many times he’d been forced to pose with his family at functions he’d also been made to attend. Those occasions had always felt so insincere - less about enjoying the memory and more about trying to prove their status as the polished, functional family everyone aspired to.

He saw Willie dismount for a moment and stretch his legs. Gripping the reins and looking around in uncertainty, Alex realized he’d gotten on before ensuring he could properly get off. Thankfully, Willie noticed and came up to him, hands raised.

“Okay, so just...carefully lift your foot out of the stirrup and swing your leg over toward me,” he instructed. Sucking in a breath hesitantly, Alex did as he said. “Alright, then...here.” Willie offered a hand for Alex to grab so he could slide off with ease. Landing on the ground, he leaned into Willie to gain his balance, and felt a congratulatory pat on his back. It took more restraint than Alex anticipated to not simply wrap his arms around him and sit like that for an indefinite amount of time. They had all day ahead of them; he didn’t need the sudden fear of losing him to derail things out of nowhere.

“Sorry if I look like a wimp about all this,” he said, letting go of his hand.

“Nah, don’t sweat it,” Willie assured him, shaking his head. “This is...this is new.”

His eyes seemed to take Alex in from head to toe and Alex could’ve sworn the charge in the air between them would buzz if they got closer, spark if they made contact. It was almost like that moment in front of Willie’s door the week before. For a few seconds they remained locked in that trance before Willie took hold of the horse’s reins and handed them to Alex.

“Technically this trail could take hours, but I’m guessing this isn’t all you’re interested in today,” he said. “What do you say we stretch our legs a bit and then ride back?”

Looking from the reins in his hand back to Willie, Alex nodded.

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

Opening his backpack, Willie handed him an apple and then bit down into one of his own. Taking a bite, it was one of the most refreshing apples Alex ever eaten. They walked the horses a little ways and tried to get good pictures of the different views around them. Alex asked to try his hand with the camera and get a few good shots of Willie. He didn’t consider himself a photographer, but he doubted when the photos got developed that they would turn out badly. The way Willie smiled made him seem like he was made of sunlight from the inside out.

As they rode back to the barn, Alex kept replaying those moments where he’d refrained from making a move over in his head. This had been strike two. If he continued on like this, he was going to hate himself for the rest of eternity, he was pretty sure. Was it some weird kind of side effect of the whole ‘Willie come back to life’ thing? Watching him affectionately say goodbye to his horse once they were ready to leave, Alex looked at his own horse and raised a tentative hand up to her nose.

The mare gazed back, patience gleaming in her eyes. He finally set his hand down on her nose and gently rubbed it up and down, smiling a little to himself. This wasn’t so bad. He could do this - it was just a matter of getting through all the barriers he made for himself in his head. Moving his hands from the horse’s nose, he stroked along her neck, and caught Willie smiling at him from the corner of his eye.

“You wanna try feeding her an apple?” he asked.

Thinking for a few seconds, Alex nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

Pulling one out of his backpack, Willie placed it in Alex’s palm.

“Alright, so hold it out in front of you like this…” He positioned Alex to offer the apple. “And keep your palm flat.”

Alex uncurled his fingers and after sniffing at it a little the mare ate it out of his hand. He could ignore the sensation of her mouth touching him because Willie still had his arm around his shoulder to hold him steady. They looked at each other, and Alex wished he could get a proper shot at Willie’s face at that angle with the camera.

“Looks like you’re gonna get the hang of this,” Willie commended.

Alex looked back up at the horse, a little bit of pride swelling in his chest. “Yeah, I think I will.”

Later, they went to the beach at Alex’s suggestion. He was perched on the surface of a picnic table, posed as if he were looking off into the distance. Willie sketched with great concentration, having taken his hair out of his braids so he could run his hand through it. The late afternoon sun brought out all the best color contrasts in their surroundings - one of the things Alex loved about coming to the beach at this time of day.

“So I have a question,” Alex started, trying not to move too much. His tendency to talk with his hands kept getting him in trouble.

“Shoot,” Willie prompted him, not looking up.

“Did Caleb let you go to school or anything? Or did he provide any sort of education at all?”

Squinting, Willie looked thoughtful for a moment.

“So, after the accident, he told me that I’d had to be taken out of school,” he began, continuing to sketch. “Which makes sense, I guess, if I forgot everything. I remember some basic things, like math wasn’t hard to pick up again. Once I was recovered enough to go places, he just let me go to the public library and find whatever I wanted to read. But he always insisted on not having reminders of who I was before and said it was supposed to be helping me ‘become my own person’. He got rid of things like my school yearbooks and old journals and things. I didn’t think anything of it at first because he’d just called it useless clutter and I believed him. As soon as he decided I was fit enough to work in the diner and help out at the hotel, he told me to forget about school. Anything else I picked up was from watching TV, or listening to the radio, or something. Sometimes I’ll just remember I know something after hearing about it and it’s like it was just always there.”

Listening intently, Alex marveled at the whole thing. The fact that Caleb was not only negligent, but actively discouraging Willie from knowing anything, made him wish he could take down the man’s whole career. However, he figured Willie probably had a lot of his intelligence still untapped. If he’d been able to get away from Caleb and somehow create a life for himself in the span of a few months, Alex wondered what else he was capable of.

“What’s something you remember?” he wondered.

“I guess I used to be really obsessed with space. Just planets and stars and all that. I can spout off facts about Jupiter’s moons and stuff like that. Did you know that the moon Europa has a saltwater ocean under a layer of ice?”

Alex shook his head. “No, I didn’t. That sounds really cool though.” He thought of the stickers on Willie’s ceiling and smirked a little before reassuming his pose.

“I sort of wish I could remember being in school,” Willie was saying. “Everyone else seems to just share all of those memories and understand each other that way.”

Alex saw his brow furrow, and could tell he felt left out. He pondered on his own experience growing up in public school. There was almost no other way he would’ve met Luke, Bobby and Reggie if they hadn’t all attended the same schools. While he could easily critique and complain about it to no end, he knew it was a privilege.

“School is definitely hard,” he told Willie. “But I did get my friends out of it, and I guess that makes up for it. If it’s any consolation, you could just complain about Caleb like he was your horrible English teacher who thought he knew more about the subject of your essay, but you cited all of your sources and they proved him completely wrong.”

Willie laughed. “Why? Did that happen to you?”

Alex bobbed his head from side to side and feigned looking thoughtful . “Maybe.”

“I kind of like reducing him to a loser English teacher. He just sounds petty and sad.”

“That’s high school,” Alex confirmed.

Leaning back from his work for a minute to take it all in, Willie brushed a hand through his hair.

“Here, you wanna take a look at it?” he said. Alex hopped off the table and went to stand over Willie’s shoulder at the drawing and was immediately rendered speechless. The detail was impeccable, but Alex was more impressed by the feeling he got looking at it. Willie had managed to make him appear...handsome, and pensive, and fascinating, like anyone else could look at him and create a million unique ideas of who he was. However, it wasn’t anyone else looking at him, it was Willie, and what he’d captured felt like the truth. Alex couldn’t really explain what that meant, only that it was an honest representation.

“Okay, I know I said the one back at your place made me look good, but this is...this is unreal.”

He could see Willie trying to be modest, but the corners of his lips couldn’t stay down. Funny enough, he appeared even more unable to find words, and simply beamed as he looked back and forth between his sketch and Alex’s face.

A sudden impulse came over Alex, and he kicked off his shoes and pulled his shirt over his head, dropping it on top of Willie’s skateboard and backpack. Willie sat looking flustered for a moment.

“Wanna swim?” Alex nodded toward the waves, bidding Willie to follow. He didn’t wait for him to catch up as he immediately began running into the waves up to his knees. Alex knew his pants would be even more ruined the second he hit the salty water, but he didn’t care. Now the sun was beginning to set and the chill of the waves was refreshing, and he couldn’t express what he felt just then in any other way.

Willie tackled him from behind, climbing onto his back and nearly knocking him over into the shallow tide. Clambering back to his feet, Alex splashed water at him. They began a playful water fight back and forth, until they were both drenched. Eventually, Alex tried to catch hold of both Willie’s hands in an attempt to prevent being splashed anymore. He had the advantage of longer arms, but before he could get a tight hold of the second arm Willie’s leg swept under his and they both fell just as a large wave washed over them.

As the water pulled back, they sat in the sand in a tangle, laughing. All Alex could think of was how pretty Willie was in this light, hair swept back off his face with tendrils resting over his shoulders, sun gleaming in his eyes and constantly shining from the inside out. The laughter died between them and he caught a look in Willie’s eye that made him wonder if he appeared to him to be just as perfect in that moment.

This time his mind and body worked in sync as he lifted a hand and gently pulled Willie into a short, tender kiss. All the self-flagellation from earlier was washed away in one pure moment, and exhilaration moved into its place. It felt soft and sweet, just the way he expected it should. Just as quickly as he’d let go, Willie went in for another one, a little longer and a little deeper. One hand remained caressing his cheek while the other wrapped around his upper back. Alex couldn’t help smiling into another kiss; he was too happy to care about anything else. Hardly a week ago, this had been impossible.

As they let go, their hands came together and they looked into each other's eyes, both releasing a relieved chuckle. Willie looked at the rest of the beach behind them and Alex’s eyes followed, but at this hour there were too few people around and no one paying attention to them. Turning back to Alex, Willie sighed and shook his head with a smile.

“Wow,” was all he said, biting his lip.

“Yeah, I’d definitely do that again,” Alex smirked, until the joy in his chest converted it into a full grin.

A wave washed over them again and they both stood, shaking out their hair and trying to wipe off whatever sand they could. Heading back up the beach, Willie grabbed Alex’s hand so they could make their way up together. The sun was nearly set but Alex was sure it had just gone into his chest, bursting with excitement. Once they reached the picnic table, they gathered their things and Willie offered to carry Alex’s shirt inside his backpack on the way home. Thank goodness there were a few patches of grass so Alex could try to get a little more sand off his feet before putting his shoes back on.

“So how long have you been sitting on that?” Willie teased as he slung his backpack over his shoulder and they left the beach.

“Shut up,” Alex laughed, knowing he was being called out.

“No, really!” Willie bumped his side jokingly. “I want to know!”

Tilting his head back to try to remember, it didn’t take Alex long to give him the answer.

“Since day one,” he told him.

Surprise swept over Willie’s face as he looked at Alex.

“Seriously?” he asked.

Alex nodded.

“Me too.”

It was Alex’s turn to look surprised. Without saying another word, he took Willie’s hand in his and then kissed it before continuing back toward his place. The whole way they talked about all the different things they needed to do together in the future. Riding on more horse trails, dancing lessons, skating lessons, art modeling sessions, going to band practices and gigs, visiting the record store while Willie wasn’t working, etc. They both agreed that the entire day technically counted as a date, and all further plans would as well. Alex was reminded once again that he didn’t have a notebook to write things down in, and vowed to have one for the next time he saw Willie. Once they reached Willie’s door, they had already put their shirts back on and it was completely dark outside.

“Are you free any time next week?” Willie asked, still holding onto Alex’s hand.

“I wish I could say yes, but probably not. And as much as I’d love to give you my number, it’s really not the best idea.”

“Well, I could give you mine,” Willie said.

Alex shot him a confused look. Holding up a finger, Willie dug into his backpack until he found his sketchbook and tore off the corner of a page, quickly scribbling one down and handing it to Alex.

“It’s actually the one for work,” he said. “But if it’s what we can do for now, I’ll do it. Kyle won’t care.”

Looking at it for a minute and then stashing it in his now-dry pocket, Alex took hold of Willie’s chin and went to kiss him again. It was really hard to stop, but they soon broke apart.

“I gotta go,” Alex murmured.

Willie only nodded, squeezing his hand before letting go and slipping his own into his pocket.

“I’ll call you.”

“Okay.”

“Goodnight.”

Once again heading up the short set of stairs to the sidewalk, Alex rubbed his lips together, relishing in the taste of what he and Willie had just done. He couldn’t imagine anything sweeter.

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #fanfic #jatp fanfic #sunset curve #alive au #willex #willie #alex mercer #luke patterson #reggie peters #bobby wilson #julie molina #caleb covington #viva las vegas #with him #fiddlepickdouglas

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waywardodysseys · 3 years

Text

Eight Days of Christmas - Day 6

Christmastime is Here

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x female reader

Warnings: cussing

Summary: Your eleventh Christmas with Ransom Drysdale.

Day 1 / Day 2 / Day 3 / Day 4 / Day 5

(divider by @firefly-graphics)

You walk through Faneuil Hall with your two-year-old son, Oliver, trying to find the perfect gift for Ransom, who happens to be shopping as well. The two of you deciding to come down to the famed marketplace to enjoy one of your holiday traditions with your son. The marketplace is extravagantly decorated with holiday décor as Christmas music filters through the speakers and the smell of gingerbread cookies and roasted chestnuts drift through the air. Christmastime is here and the frenzied crowd’s milling about, trying to find the perfect gift for whoever they are shopping for.

You and Oliver have been weaving through the crowd, going into various stores. Most of them were for Oliver to look at the toys or some clothes. You had taken him into a store, showing him a few things, his father might like. “What do you think, Oli?” you inquire.

“Daddy has sweaters. Anda clothes. What ‘bout toy?”

“This is for your dad, not you.” you answer and receive a frown in return. “What about a watch? Hmmm? Or maybe something for the Beamer?”

“We could get ‘m a new car!”

You laugh, “Your dad would be a horrendous Grinch for the rest of his days if we got rid of the Beamer.” Along with me. Because there were still times you and Ransom took the silver car out when enjoying a night out on the town and the two of you ended up getting down and dirty in the car before making it into the house. It was also where you and Ransom did the deed for the first time because you couldn't help yourself when he pulled up to his house all those years ago on the fourth date.

“Momma!” Oli’s voice brings you out of your memories. You turn to find your son ogling some high ultra tech drones. You walk over to him and crouch down to his level. “I’m sure he’ll let you play with it, but know it’s your father’s toy not yours.”

Oli nods his head in response, too engrossed in looking at the pricey mechanical devices. You smile as you stand and begin talking to the retail associate.

Half an hour later you are walking back through the marketplace, holding Oli’s hand. Soon you’d meet Ransom for lunch, and he’d take Oliver for a couple of hours while you looked for a gift for Ransom from yourself. Currently, no doubt, he was probably overthinking a gift for you or one of his family members. He had always been prepared for this day but knew he had to outdo the gifts of the previous year.

“Momma?” Oli questions from below.

“Yes?” You stop and look down at him.

“Where’s daddy?” He looks up at you with tiredness in his eyes.

You reach down and pick him up. “He’s shopping for Grandma Linda, Grandpa Richard. And the rest of his family.” You and Ransom had agreed when you were first married he’d buy all their gifts because he’d know what they want and like then you wrapped them and placed both of your names under the ‘from’ on the tag. You had been doing the same for your own family. It worked out perfectly every time.

“Nana? Papa?”

He’s referring to your parents. “I will be shopping for them after we meet daddy for lunch.”

“I hungry!”

You cuddle him into your chest as your stomach growls. “Me too. How about we find a place to eat? Huh? I’ll let him know where we are, okay?”

He nods his head and buries his head in the crook of your neck. He whispers, “Otay.”

-------

You and Oliver are sitting inside Anthem Kitchen and Bar, which is near Faneuil Hall. You had texted Ransom where you were heading and he responded immediately, telling you he was finishing up at a store and would join you shortly.

“There’s my beautiful family,” Ransom remarks as he approaches you. He places a brief kiss on your lips then places a kiss on Oliver’s head. “How are my two favorite people?” he inquires as he places his bags down and takes a seat.

“Hungry!” Oliver boasts. “Momma say I canna have burger or chicken sticks.”

You laugh and shrug, “Close enough. Though I did say chicken tenders.”

Ransom smiles, “Whatever you want, buddy.” Ransom reaches under the table and finds your hand and squeezes it. “Something’s on your mind. What is it?”

You watch Oli scribble on a coloring sheet then glance at your husband. “Our son made me reminisce about a particular silver car.”

One of Ransom’s brows pops up, “I can call my mom. Have her watch Oli tonight.” He leans in closer to you and cups your cheek. “I’d love to take you for a spin. As well as the car.” Your cheeks are hot as Ransom chuckles. “Any specific moment you were thinking about sweetheart?”

You swallow. Happy your husband still knows how to keep things lively no matter what the occasion is. “Our fourth date.”

Ransom moans under his breath, “You couldn't keep your hands off me that night. And I think it was because you had agreed to it on the fourth date because you declined me on the first one.”

“I wasn't about to let you get what you truly wanted on the first date.”

“Well, I did get to second base with you that night.”

“Ransom!” you hiss as you giggle.

“You in trouble daddy!” Oli exclaims.

Ransom pulls back and looks at Oli. “I know I am. But I think she’ll forgive me later.” He winks at his son. Oli smiles widely and laughs.

The server appears seconds later, and three lunch orders are given. They disappear again and are not seen until lunch is brought out and placed on the table.

After lunch is over, Ransom, you, and Oliver walk back out into the chilly winter air. A now fed Oliver is bursting at the seams, ready to shop with his father.

“What we buyin’ momma?” Oli inquires as Ransom scoops him up into his arms.

“We gotta discuss it when she’s not around Oli.” Ransom leans over and presses a kiss to your lips. They linger for a minute before he pulls away. “Couple of hours? And I’ll call my mom about watching Oli.”

“Grandmama Linda? She’s here?”

Ransom shakes his head, “Not here. Maybe she’ll watch you tonight while your mom and I shop for you.”

You shake your head and laugh at Ransom’s lame excuse to cover him and you are having a date night. Which included the Beamer and possibly reenacting your fourth date. You lean over and kiss Oli’s cheek then place a kiss on Ransom’s lips. “That should be enough time.” You look between the two of them and your heart swells. “Take care of one another.”

“We will,” Ransom and Oli respond in unison.

“I love you.”

“I love you.” “Love you momma.” Ransom and Oli respond at the same time.

You turn and make your way back towards Faneuil Hall while Ransom looks at his son and inquires, “What shall we get her?”

Oliver shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“Makeup? Jewelry?”

“She already beautiful daddy. She dontna need that.”

Ransom laughs, “No she doesn't. I got lucky with her, you got lucky too having her as your mom.” He pauses, “What about a new purse? She loves her handbags.”

-------

Hours later, wrapping paper, gift bags, and tissue paper are strewn about the kitchen island and table as you and Ransom wrap presents. Oliver had fallen asleep on the car ride home and thankfully, Ransom had gotten him into the house and up to his room without him waking up while you unloaded the car with dozens of shopping bags. Both you and Ransom then grabbed the wrapping supplies and set up shop in the kitchen.

“Did you peak?” Ransom now inquires as he tries to wrap a box.

“I did not,” you respond, “you always hide it.” You pause, “Or maybe you always buy my gift last minute.”

“I do not. I’ve learned over the years to buy early. You know I still hate the frenzied crowds and the mad drivers. All of them fucking assholes.”

You laugh, “There’s my Grinch.”

Ransom grins, “A couple more weeks and Santa gets to visit.”

“I’ll be ready. As always.” You look over at him. “You called Linda?”

“Yes. She’ll be over at six to pick Oli up. Says he can spend the night too.”

You snort, “She rarely wants him to spend the night.” Then a realization hit you. “Please don't tell me you told her we--”

“I told her no such thing. She said something about taking him to brunch tomorrow with my dad and the three of them could go do something afterwards. Knows what it’s like to have a young boy at his age, knows his parents want some quiet.”

“I’ll have to make sure to get her something else along with what you bought her.” You see Ransom shrug. “It’ll be from me, big spender.”

Ransom sighs, “I just don't get why we can't draw names. There’s a dozen of us now.”

“You know Harlan likes tradition. He’ll never cave into that.”

Ransom curses under his breath. “I also hate wrapping. Why can't everything go in a gift bag? Or better yet the volunteers at the marketplace could’ve wrapped ‘em.”

“We always wrap our own Ransom. Besides, I think, you’ll enjoy unwrapping your gift this year.”

Ransom’s brows shoot up. “Yours, or Oli’s?”

You shrug nonchalantly and don't answer as you begin to wrap another present.

“Sweetheart, come on,” Ransom whines while he makes his way towards you. He pulls up a chair next to you and sits down. One of his hands travels up your leg while the other pushes some hair aside. He dips his head down and nips at your neck.

“Ransom,” you whisper as you look at your husband, who’s giving you sad puppy eyes.

“Y/N,” Ransom murmurs before he sweeps his mouth against yours.

Seconds tick by in silence until a squeaky voice states: “Eeewwww.”

You and Ransom jump apart then laugh. Ransom squeezes your leg. “Wait till you’re in your teens Oli. It won't be ‘ew’ then.”

“His teens?”

Ransom rolls his eyes as he places Oli in his lap, “You’ll always be a momma’s boy Oli. So, no kissing until you're in your thirties.”

“Girls are eeewwww.” Oli makes a disgusting face then looks at you and smiles brightly, “But not momma. She pretty. Right daddy?”

Ransom chuckles, “The prettiest girl in the world.”

You laugh, “Thanks Oli. I love you too.” You watch Ransom’s face drop then reach out and stroke his cheek. “And you.”

“Grandmama Linda here yet?” Oli asks as he looks at Ransom. Oli rubs his eyes, still sleepy and worn out from the day.

Ransom shakes his head. “Not yet. We still gotta finish wrapping gifts. Wanna help?”

“But I won'tna be able to see what you gotta me and I wanna know whatta you gotta me.” Oli whines.

Ransom chuckles. “Well, your mom and I are shopping tonight and will wrap it later. Besides, it's a gift, Oli. You aren't supposed to know what it is until Christmas morning.”

“Otay.” he sighs in defeat.

The rest of the afternoon and into the evening, before the doorbell rings at six, the three of you wrap gifts in the kitchen. Not caring if they are wrapped perfectly, or unnecessary amounts of tape is used. Not worrying about Oli trying to write people’s names crookedly or illegible on the gift tags or even writing his own under the ‘from’ section on it along with your’s and Ransom’s name too.

All you care about is spending time with the two men of your life, enjoying the holiday season with them. Knowing these are part of the traditions you had grown up with and had been sharing with Ransom and now with your son.

#eight days of christmas #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x y/n #eight days of christmas day 6 #christmas series #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale fanfic

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mimik-u · 3 years

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“Growing Pains” Thoughts:

Dogcopter 6: Til Death Do Us Part: I Now Promounce You Man and Woof. CVVGFFRFGGGGFFFFG. The little immersion detail of the actors in the movie ofc being dogs, so they stick their tongues out at random moments is so funny.

“Everyone’s getting married but me.” JEODOFJDJDNDJDJJDJDJDJD. STEVEN, UR SIXTEEEN.

But I feel Steven @ his depression ice cream/movie binge.

Steven immediately reverting back to his normal coloring after his dad picks up. 😭

Even Greg (through Steven’s initial encouragement) has found a fulfilling lease on life through being a manager, and you can see on Steven’s face that he realizes that the perceived gulf between himself and everyone he loves is deep and wide. Everyone is moving on, and he’s in stasis.

(Just as the Gems were once upon a time—Greg, Lars, Sadie, and all the others, too.)

“It wasn’t important.” 😭😭😭

Steven’s body instinctively reacting after he opens the fridge and sees his proposal glow bracelet. 😭😭😭

Ugh, the “Full Disclosure” ringtone is still so good. And it’s a subtle reminder of the conflict from that very episode—Steven trying to repress all of his trauma.

Hhhhhhhhh, I love Priyanka Maheswaran. She’s such a good character.

“You’re sixteen years old, and you’ve never been to the DOCTOR?!”

Oh, my God, but upon noticing that her panic scared him, Priyanka does her best to soothe Steven: “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’ll have a talk with your father later.”

OH, THE X-RAYS OF THE GEMS ARE SO COOL. AND THEN THE DETAIL OF AMETHYST HAVING RANDOM STUFF IN HER STOMACH?? A+

OH, MY GOD. HE’S BEEN HEALING HIMSELF EVERY TIME HE’S BEEN SUSTAINING INJURIES.

“Well, you seem to have made a series of miraculous recoveries, but that doesn’t change the fact that you experienced trauma. You’ve recovered physically, but have you recovered mentally?” ... “Not wrong! It's that adverse childhood experiences, or childhood trauma, can have a lasting impact on how your body responds to stress.”

I’m genuinely speechless.

This is some of the most, if not the most important writing to ever come out of this series.

OH, GOD, THE MONTAGE OF ALL THE HORRIBLE THINGS THAT HAVE HAPPENED TO HIM SINCE THE STSRT OF THE SHOW

JESUS FUCMK

“Pearl did die.” Because poofing is a form of death, and Steven will always conceive of it as so.

“But that—that was just the early stuff!” 😭😭😭😭😭😭 He literally only got through, like, Season 1.

AND THEN THE MONTAGE OF EVERYTHING ELSE. JESUS CH R

And know what gets me, too? Enemies like the Diamonds and Jasper and Eyeball of course crop up in this montage, but so do the Gems and various other allies, too: Pearl’s spear almost hitting him when he was stuck in Peridot’s pod, Amethyst transforming into Rose, Peridot’s attempts to kill him, Bismuth’s attempt to kill him. Because even the people we love and forgive have the capacity to harm us. And just because we’ve forgiven them doesn’t take away the harm.

Okay. I’m crying now.

“I think all these experiences have been subjecting your body to a harmful amount of stress, and that's affecting your ability to respond to new forms of stress in a healthy way. You've been dealing with genuine threats from such a young age, your body is now responding to minor threats as if your life were in danger!” HHHHHJJNNHH FUCK ME

Upon Priyanka asking if he’s had any stressful experiences lately, Steven clutches his heart, doubles over in pain, and remembers Connie, his body then going through its most painful contortions yet. 😭😭😭 I’m losing it. This episode.

OH, GOD. SHE DIDNT TELL PRIYANKA.

“I CAN’T BE AROUND YOU RIGHT NOW.” OH MY FUCKING G O D

Him hitting his head on the ceiling makes me think about what further injuries he may have just caused himself

GREG 😭😭😭

“Connie... thank you.” / “Yeah... I’ll be here when you’re ready.” 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 Connie knew that he needed a support system, but she equally knew that it couldn’t be her at the present moment.

Connie placing her arm on her mom’s back as they walk off is leaving me tender

“I proposed to Connie... she said no.” Zach Callison’s delivery here made me cry all the fuck over againS oh my go d

“My body, it's reacting like it's the end of the world! I think I've seen the world almost end so many times now, that everything that goes wrong feels that, that extreme!” 😭😭😭😭😭

“How do I live life it always feels like I’m about to die?” I am fucking sobbin g

The lighting of the bedroom scene is so warm and ambient hhhhhhh.

Man, I love Greg: “Cut yourself some slack. It's okay to be worried and make some mistakes when you're figuring out what to do with your life. That's not unusual.”

Augshhshsushssj, this episode ending with Greg prioritizing Steven. I’m just. I’m really soft. This episode emotionally undid me.

#steven universe #priyanka maheswaran #connie maheswaran #greg universe #s: future #mimiku #you can tell I really love an episode when I start cursing vehemently in my blogs

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queerchoicesblog · 3 years

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Epilogue: Underwater (SC Titanic, Zetta x Adele Series)

As promised, here the epilogue of the Zetta x Adele Series, folks.

This is the very end of a project that meant me quite a lot to me and got me through the last terrible year. Thanks to all those who supported it: hope you enjoyed it and will enjoy this ending.

In case you were wondering, this song inspired the whole series, particularly the last chapters:

youtube

I will skip the tag list for once since it’s pointless anyway.

➡️ Ch. 1, Ch. 2/1, Ch. 2/2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6, Ch. 7, Ch. 8/1, Ch. 8/2, Ch. 9, Ch. 10/1, Ch. 10/2, Ch. 11/1, Ch. 11/2, Ch. 12, Ch. 13, Ch. 14, Ch. 15 , Ch. 16, Ch. 17

_________________________

Almost a century after the sinking of the RMS Titanic and to celebrate Canada becoming the first country outside Europe to legalise same-sex marriage, the Canadian Film Institute decided to work side by side with several LGBTQ+ organisations across the world to put together an exhibition focused on the early queer cinema and the many queer stars who were forced to hide their true selves in the Golden Age of cinematography, spanning from 1890s till the aftermath of Second World War. "A testament to the role the LGBTQ+ community played in the history of cinema and that we have always been here, even if people hardly saw us" as a journalist wrote on a queer magazine. After the recent discovery of some private documents, the curators were overjoyed to include an icon of the 1900s - 1910s cinema like Zetta Serda into the retrospective and cast a new light on her extraordinary career sadly soon forgotten after the advent of the sound era. Yet, the silent picture star was mentioned as a model and 'endless source of inspiration" by many queer movie stars like Cary Grant, Katherine Hepburn, Greta Garbo all part of the retrospective. Rumor has it that as soon as she landed in America, Marlene Dietrich demanded his agent a meeting with Mrs King.

A curator drove all the way to Montreal to meet the last known heir, a certain Mrs. Julia Nowak, who greeted him on the threshold of a cosy downtown apartment. She offered him a coffee and a slice of a Polish sweet bread: the recipe was a family heirloom, she explained, beaming. She was in her late fifties, a therapist, she said. Her hazel eyes gleamed when she added, in a pleasantly soothing voice that betrayed a hint of excitement: "I must confess I am so incredibly happy that you contacted me about the retrospective. I adore the idea and I will make sure to attend it. Also" she nodded to a wedding picture hung to the wall "did you know that my wife is in politics? She campaigned for the legalisation...yes, Madeleine Fournier: see, you know her! We got married right after the law passed. If anything, your call and project made me twice as happy". She took a pause, smiling over her coffee in remembrance. "Anyway, back to the matter of your visit...yes, as far as I know, I am Zetta's last heir. As you probably know, my family wasn't officially related to her but she stated otherwise in her will". She moved to the couch and gestured the curator to follow her as she opened up one of the boxes and chests piled into the living room and picked out an old album, the leather cover worn at the edges. Dust waltzed in the air as she opened it with caution and gentle care. She showed him a slightly discoloured black and white picture of a young couple kissing for the camera in front of a church. Another wedding picture, from a different era. "Nana Hileni and Papa Maciej's wedding picture. I still remember them even if they both died when I was barely a teen...as if one couldn't bear to live without the other. Or so I like to think. She would help me with the homework, mathematics particularly, and he baked this bread for me till he was too weak to do so. He always claimed that he won Nana's heart with his pastries but she always denied it laughing". She passed another picture of the same couple proudly standing in front of the Nowak family bakery in Hoboken. "Frankly, I believe that Papa's broad shoulders and Marlon Brando smile are more likely to blame for this coup de foudre" she laughed. "And he knew how to deal with her no-nonsense attitude and vice versa. They...balanced each other, if you wish". She picked another picture and handed it to him. A woman was looking down in tender adoration and awe to a baby nestled in her arms looking up at her, outstretching a tiny arm in an attempt to touch her face. "There! This is Dad" she pointed at the baby before turning the picture where someone wrote 'Alex meets Auntie Adele'. Turning it again, she pointed at the woman. "This is Adele Carrem. Or Auntie Adele as I've always heard calling her. Nana's sister and Zetta's publicist and companion" Putting it back into the album, she carefully picked a bunch of other old pictures. "You surely know who this one is" she smiled, handing out the one on top. The photo was rather grainy but you could still recognise the same kid, slightly older, around two, sucking his thumb, cuddled up in Zetta's lap. The actress had aged a little but her features were unmistakable and it was endearing to see her sitting by the fireplace to read that kid with the sleepy face a bedtime story. "Sadly, I have never met them. I wish I did, oh you have no idea...but stories of them lived through in our family" Julia continued. "My Dad loved his Aunties - as he called them - dearly and by what I've heard and read, they loved him in manner as if he was their own. He knew little of them or Zetta's career back then...to him they were just the sweet ladies who would buy him ice-cream in Central Park or take him to see his favourite pictures over and over again at the movie theater. He said he will never forget the afternoons he used to spend with them in a Manhattan cafe that no longer exists around Christmas: Nana and Papa worked like crazy as the festive season approached and the glorious cup of hot chocolate with an elegant puff of cream on top with the Aunties became a tradition to him. He kept it alive somehow as he did the same with me". She handed the curator a bunch of other pictures: Zetta cleaning up Alex's face smeared with jam, the both of them laughing; Zetta posing with Maciej and her Dad at a table in the Hoboken bakery. He eventually mirrored her smile seeing a five years old Alex at the beach all engrossed in building a sandcastle with Hileni and Adele, and he standing at the water edge hand in hand with Miss Carrem, looking out into the distance. "These are family pictures. I'll show you the Zetta's private memorabilia we cherished". Julia searched a little, opening an old chest and handling every item inside with tender care. When she found what she was looking for, she showed the curator an elegant set of smaller boxes containing letters, dried flowers and photos. "I have already received an offer to get these published. I'm still pondering it. Before agreeing, I want to consider throughly if this is a thing they would have wanted, even if they're no longer here" The curator nodded as she kept searching. He skimmed a few letters and smiled as his eyes fall on the photos hidden away in those boxes: the two women sitting together and chatting at Hileni's wedding, Zetta's reading a script, lazily sprawled on a chaise long in her apartment. Some had short lines handwritten on the back, like a promotional picture with "Missing you" written by Zetta herself. The curator showed another to Mrs Nowak: a visibly excited Miss Carrem proudly showing to the camera a document announcing her voter registration. On the back, in Zetta's penmanship: "On the way to vote...my sweet Adele won!". "Oh you didn't know? Auntie Adele was a suffragette! I couldn't believe it when I first heard it! Nana told me that she was in and out jail when they lived in London because of protests. You know, like those suffragettes you read about in history books but less famous. Yet she fought for women's rights and kept fighting for them even in America. She was quite disappointed though by some major decisions of some feminist movements and eventually joined a socialist Union 'more rightfully welcoming working class individuals, immigrants and black brothers and sisters'. It's all in those letters but yeah, you couldn't possibly know. So little is known about her outside family". A little smile drew on her face as she put back the photo. "That photo was taken the day of the first election open to women. I checked the date. I suppose Zetta wanted to immortalise the moment...it was sweet of her, huh? Auntie Adele must have been so proud and overjoyed that day! You know, my Dad was born in 1920 when women's right to vote was legalised nationally and Nana once told me that Auntie commented the lucky coincidence saying she was incredibly happy her nephew would get to live in a fairer world. She was a true force of nature...she never talked much of the sinking of the Titanic just like Zetta and Nana actually but when one day Dad asked...he was barely a child and probably found an old article about the tragedy...Auntie Adele minimised but Nana assured him that her sister saved her life that night, risking her own to go down to the belly of the sinking ship to bring her to safety. Auntie simply shrugged, saying that it was what sisters do and that they made it to the lifeboats only thanks to Zetta, who shouted protests to stubborn officers and eventually found them a spot on a boat. I cannot even bring myself to imagine how scary that must have been: I cried so much when Madeleine took me to see Leo and Kate...to think they were there and it was all real!" She picked a few other objects out the box: a Shakespeare Sonnets book in a leather cover with golden engravings, with a little handwritten dedication 'To Adele, my sonnet 116. Happy birthday! With all my love, Zetta'; old scripts with annotations, a framed photograph of Adele and Zetta slow dancing barefoot in the living room of a gorgeous Long Island mansion. "These have a sentimental value" Mrs Nowak noted, her voice betraying the flicker of emotions as she picked it up. She took a deep sigh and continued. "I remember the day I told Dad I was gay as it was yesterday. We had always been quite close so it came natural to tell him first. We were in his car, he had come straight from college to pick me up at ice-skating practice. I..I dropped it in the middle of a conversation, bracing myself for the worst. I heard so many bad stories about coming out to your parents I was terrified of the consequences but I couldn't hide it anymore. I mean, yes, in public: bullies get even nastier if they know and I didn't want people shouting me "dyke" at school. But I needed to get it out of my chest...with someone at least. He kept quiet for a moment and I felt like drowning in shame. But then he spoke". A nostalgic tender smile formed Julia's lips. "He said he had two amazing Aunties that contributed to make his life a wondrous adventure. It was thanks to them that he, the son of a baker, could attend a prestigious college, for instance: they offered to pay for it without asking a penny back. They also helped him write his first romantic letter to his childhood sweetheart and consoled him when the little girl turned him down. But his Aunties had a secret, he added. He said: to my kid eyes they were no less a couple than Mom and Dad and at home we all treated them in manner but one day Mom made me promise to behave differently when we were in public. In public I would refer to her sister as 'Auntie Adele' but call Zetta by her name. He didn't get it and it took some getting used to. He soon noticed that even the Aunties behaved a bit differently out in the sun: they wouldn't hold hands or use endearing words in the street or when other people were around. They simply behaved like good friends did. He understood it later when he, as stubborn as a mule, asked them directly". Julia gently grazed her fingers on the glass of the framed photograph, caressing it. "And they told me everything, he said. That they were in love, just like mom and dad were, but people out there could be uncomfortable and extremely rude to women loving other women and men loving other men. That they kept their companionship a secret in public because those people had no problems with women being friends and they didn't want to have bad words or worse happening to them. I remember asking him what he thought about it. He smiled. 'I cried. Since Auntie Zetta mentioned people claiming that women like them were sick and would burn in hell, I actually started crying. I sobbed desperately in her arms, crying that I didn't want them to burn in hell, I loved my Aunties and I was happy they loved each other. Eventually they explained me it was just a vile lie spread my malignant people. But I got quite a scare and kept staring at them with puffy red eyes and my face wet with tears for a while. It required lots of cuddling to bring a smile back on my face'. He shook his head, laughing of his endearing naivety. Then he pulled over and looked at me. He continued: 'I still don't get why people keep spreading those mean lies but I know for sure that my Aunties weren't sick and didn't end up in hell and so won't you. Don't believe bullshits like that for a split second, okay? And I also want you to remember that it doesn't change a thing for me and mom too. You will always be my little girl, our little girl and we love you'. We shared a long hug before driving back home. On the way back he insisted to buy my favourite chicken and waffles for dinner, saying mom's veggie soup could wait. For my birthday, a month later or so, he asked me to follow him to the attic and showed me this chest. To meet the Aunties that 'would have surely been there for me'". She tipped away a tear. "I told you I married Madeleine right after the legalisation of same-sex marriages. My wedding was also the last public event Mom and Dad attended together before his health worsened irremediably. He passed away last year". For a moment she looked on the verge of tears but she recovered quickly. "Sorry...anyway, that day Dad insisted on walking me down the aisle even if he was getting weak. He beamed with pride when a friend fixed a rainbow ribbon to his jacket. Later at the lunch he read a speech he had written for the day, his hand shaking. He shared the story of his Aunties. He said that despite the hardships their situation forced upon them, they had quite a happy life together, a happiness carefully hidden from the world. He wished us to find something similar to what they shared without needing to hide anymore. He said Adele and Zetta would have been so happy and proud to celebrate with all of us that day" Mrs. Nowak picked the Shakespeare Sonnet book and gave him a fond look. "He brought this to the wedding. And he read for us the sonnet 116, the one Zetta mentioned in her dedication. You know, the one that starts with 'Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments..." ----------------------- A few months later the exhibition on old Hollywood queer cinema and artists opened. Each artist had a room that soon filled with a crowd of enthusiastic visitors. In the first half, in a room arranged as a turn of the century nickelodeon with velvet chairs, all the memorabilia of Zetta Serda's public life: panels explaining the various stages of her career and the birth of her myth, promotional pictures of her performances, articles about her and a copy of a gazette announcing her wedding with the director Richard King. On the wall, on a screen her entire filmography rolled up in loop, bewitching spectators after a century. In display cases: the gorgeous sapphire necklace she wore on her last night on the Ship of Dreams and at the movie party of Surviving the Titanic, and a replica of her Cleopatra costume. The aging Queen of Egypt with a tragic love and destiny immortalised by Shakespeare was her last role back on the theater stage before retiring from the scenes. Old scripts with her personal annotation were displayed with photographs taken on sets and mundane events. The wall hosting the motion-picture screen cut the room in half. On the other side, the hidden half of her life. Her life with Adele no one suspected back then. A life kept secret that now unveiled in front of the eyes of the visitors. The curators discovered that finding public pictures of Miss Carrem was nearly impossible, true to the nickname she acquired as time went by: The Shadow. She stayed at Zetta's side until and even after she stopped acting, showing rare loyalty and devotion, but ever surrounded by this mystery allure. No one, even the most stubborn reporters managed to know anything about her and she was soon dismissed as a Titanic survivor, possibly a fan, who worked as Zetta's secretary and somehow gained her respect. Little they knew about the depth of their relationship and what stacks of secret letters and family memories revealed of the life of Miss Carrem. A panel finally told her story and her secret achievements: Adele, or better Adal, kept fighting for a fairer world and society her whole life and marched for women's right to vote on the famous parade in 1915. She also passed the teaching of Edith Garrud to her American sisters. The only pictures of her came from the Nowak family, except for one. The only photograph of a public appearance of Miss Carrem as well as the only known public appearance of Zetta and Adele. An old grainy photo accurately framed showed Adele shaking hands with The Unsinkable Molly Brown on a podium. In her free hand a shiny medal and a few steps behind the mayor of New York. According to the panel, the survivors' committee founded by Mrs. Brown decided to award Miss Carrem a medal for bravery and a generous check "to help her and her sister starting a new life in America". With great surprise, Miss Carrem received the medal and the check, thanked the board but refused the honors. Instead, she asked to deliver them both to the family of a certain Charlie Stoke, a stewart that lost his life in the sinking to save her life and those of many passengers. She added that her friend expressed the desire to study naval engineering one day and she wished that the money kindly offered to her would be enough to establish a scholarship for boys like him across the ocean. In another picture, Miss Carrem and her sister chatted with Moll Brown in company of Zetta. Eventually, other philanthropists and wealthy socialites signed checks for her cause so that the Stoke family received a generous contribution too. And today, as another picture confirmed, the faculty of naval engineering of the University of Newcastle hosts a marble engraving of Charlie Stoke: to his memory a scholarship had been instituted one year after on the anniversary of the sinking. Since 1913 it has been helping students of poor background to get an education and improve their life. Zetta herself became a philanthropist during her Renaissance and ever since. The first act of her new phase of her life was joining the Moll Brown survivors committee to provide help to the second and third class passengers families and survivors. Some said that the tragedy she witnessed touched her heart, other claimed that it was to be attributed to the influence of her publicist. Jokingly, she used to say that after all, she had too much money yet all she could have wished for in her life, so why not doing some good with it? A considerable donation under her and Mr King was received by the main hospital during the Spanish flu pandemic; she was particularly active in providing financial help to struggling neighbourhoods and female education institutions. In the middle of the room, a long glass display hosted the Shakespeare Sonnets opened at sonnet 116 and a selection of the private correspondence between Zetta and Adele. My darling, You will receive this letter tomorrow morning when I'll be already off to Chicago. The suitcases are ready and packed, this is a goodnight note scribbled the night before leaving you to remind you how much I love you and care about you. How much I'm going to miss you even if - thank God! - we won't be parted for long... Do not forget you promised me to write every day! Write to me, Adele, write to me whatever thought crosses that gorgeous mind of you: you know I could you rambling for hours without getting tired of the sound of your voice, of your sparkling wisdom. I wanna know everything. So don't be shy: I'll be waiting your letters with tender impatience. Can't wait to be in your arms once more. Adoringly yours, Zetta - Dear, dearest Zetta, I went to Central Park today with Hileni. It was a gorgeous spring day, sunny, a gentle breeze blowing: 'simply too beautiful to be wasted inside' as my sister put it. Did I tell you that she's still exchanging letters with the delivery boy from the hat shop? I thought they were over but apparently he invited her to the nickelodeon next week. Anyway, walking in the park with her I suddenly realised how I wanted to share that spring wonder with you. When are you coming back to New York? Tell me soon, please. And even 'soon' won't be soon enough: you're always on my mind since you left. But yes, tell me soon so I can make you promise we will go for a walk before the weather becomes too hot. Do you think I can wrap my arm with yours? Is it professional enough for a publicist? Even just for a few steps: oh you have no idea how I would love that! Or maybe you have? I hope so: it'd mean you miss me as much as I miss you when we are apart. Oh, I almost forgot: all settled with that magazine you mentioned before your departure! I negotiated a two pages long interview, plus pictures. And a cover mention. Hope I did well: you have already fired me as your secretary, I must prove you I am just what you're looking for in a publicist... Can't wait to see you again! Loving you always, Adele Only one letter was copied on a panel of its own on the main wall side by side with a blow-up of the picture of Adele and Zetta slow-dancing barefoot and free, for a blessed moment immortalised in a discreet shot. Adele pressing a tender kiss on Zetta's forehead, drawing a soft smile on the acrtress' lips. Many visitors commented it was heartwarming to see such a photograph that conveyed the intimacy and the warmth of affection radiating from the dancing couple. Some said that Zetta was even more beautiful like that: free, hair slightly askew and genuinely happy, loved. What stole their hearts away though was the letter attached to it. It was no surprise that the curators decided to name the retrospective Underwater. Dearest Adele, Forgive me for the tone of this letter. I am writing it down in bed while I cannot sleep and my mind runs back to you as if we could meet halfway between the miles separating us, in a world of fantasy of our own. It's ridiculous how much I miss you! I want you near, I need you near all the time. Take tonight: if you were here with me, I would be heavenly sleeping in your loving embrace. Most unfortunately, you are not and I'm lying here, insomniac, thinking of you. And about my life. No, don't frown. I am not getting all sad again. It's...bittersweet. And - I'll spoil you the ending so you will stop worrying, hopefully - it gets better the more you proceed. Have you ever felt trapped underwater? I did, my whole life. Always hiding, always measuring words, gestures, gazes not to let them see, not to let them know...so little time to go up and break the surface. Drop the mask and breathe. In, out. Once, twice. In my lowest moments I repeated to my myself: how are you gonna survive? One day an acquaintance with a remarkable passion for the sea explained me and the other bored commensals that you can keep someone alive by breathing oxygen into their mouth underwater. Pretty much like mouth-to-mouth resuscitation helps an unconscious person to regain consciousness. I found it interesting but doubted his words. Then I met you, Adele. My dearest, wondrous Adele. And I learnt that yes, you can't breathe if you're constantly underwater...but you won't drown if you have the right person swimming by your side in those deep waters. Put your lips on me, Adele. Touch me, hold me in your arms. And I can live underwater. With your love, I can live underwater. We can live underwater. I love you. I want to cover a full page of these three simple words: I love you. I want to cry them out and entrust them to the winds, to the night. But what for? Who cares if the world knows or not? I'll whisper them over your lips when we will be reunited. So you can breathe underwater. Counting down the hours separating us, my love. Eternally yours, Zetta

#titanic storyscape #sc titanic #zetta serda #adele carrem #zetta x adele #zetta x adele series

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theramseyloft · 4 years

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Cognition and Sociology Research

When I was raising doves I found some research papers about pigeons categorizing things and learning the equivalent of words the way human children do.

At the time, I just thought it was neat.

But when we got the most pitiful pigeon I have ever seen into wildlife rehab (I'm their columbid specialist),

I built off of that research and started talking to him, like you would a nonverbal three year old.

Entirely on his own, he started alerting me for anxiety attacks, and even worked out how to bring me down from bad ones if he couldn't warn me fast enough.

He knew I was diabetic before I did, and also started alerting me for blood sugar spikes all on his own.

I'm an autistic woman with ADHD, PTSD, and pretty severe social anxiety.

My two biggest fears in public are anxiety attacks and over-stimulation.

Those of you with mental illness are aware that panic attacks and anxiety attacks are two different things.

A panic attack is a sudden reaction to a specific stimulus.

An anxiety attack is more of a straw that broke the camels back after a prolonged build up of stressors.

From my perspective, they feel exactly the same.

Because I am not aware of the build up of stress until I have that last straw moment, an anxiety attack can hit me out of nowhere, for absolutely no reason I am capable of discerning in the moment.

It makes going anywhere alone absolutely terrifying because I have no way of knowing when or if or even why I may suddenly have an anxiety attack.

Under enough duress, I can’t function. Like my brain just shorts out.

I get hit with a wave of exhaustion. All the energy drains out through the soles of my feet, and I'm just.. so deeply tired I could just crumple up where I stand.

Blood sugar spikes feel, to me, exactly like that stressed out shut down.

Ankhou can read that build up, and differentiate between anxiety, blood sugar, and just plain physically tired.

If I am actually just tired, Ankhou will wait for me to get comfortable, snuggle in with me, and join the nap.

When he becomes aware that I'm approaching the degree of stressed that preceeds an anxiety attack, he gets on my shoulder or in my lap and leans against my cheek or preens my hand: Letting me know I need to relax and providing me a soft stim to relax come down with.

If he stands on my chest and stretches to be eye level, that't my warning that I need to immediately find a place to sit down and pet him to prevent myself from shutting down entirely.

If he has not gotten to me soon enough and I am fully shut down, he gets in my lap and gently preens the underside of my forearm until I respond to stroke him.

If I'm having a blood sugar spike, he will do absolutely anything in his power to prevent me from falling asleep! He'll start by preening and nudging my hands to pet him. If I don’t respond, he bites my fingers.

If I don’t respond to that, he bites the back of my hand. Then the soft tender bit between my fingers, then my inner elbow, then my ear, then my cheek...

And then if absolutely nothing else will rouse me, he will bite my eyelid.

If absolutely nothing will get me to respond, he'll find who ever else is in the house and throw himself at their office or room door until they come check on me.

And I got to thinking: If a feral literally off the street would do that on his own...

What would happen if I selectively bred the birds most comfortable around and interested in people?

And gave them very basic training? Like responding to their name, loading eagerly into a carrier, comfortably wearing a harness, responding to a few simple commands like Step up...

At the time, I was raising show pigeons.

And one of the highest criteria for working with a breed was its tractability and docility.

So I already had this collection of the breeds that were easiest to handle, most physically fit, with the best parents instincts like tight setting of eggs and chicks and excellent feeding responses...

Letting them blend would mean I wouldn’t have to keep pairs penned anymore!

So I laid out sand on the floor to make cleaning easier, got them nest boxes and stacked them to the wall.

Got them shelves with hardware cloth supporting comfy rubber mats I could take out and hose off.

And let them pair up as they would.

I have a cap of 10 mature breeding pairs.

When a keeper baby hits 6 months, the adult of the same sex that is either least healthy, least friendly, or has the worst parenting record gets retired and adopted to their permanent home as a pet.

That's the only influencing I have over pairings.

The birds can otherwise do and bond as they please.

Babies who do not enjoy any aspect of the training program are not forced to continue. I just mark them as pet instead of potential therapy bird.

I record everything they do.

Who they pair with, how well they parented the babies, how the babies developed, who wants to sit with me, under what circumstance.

How treat motivated are they?

How much and where do they like to be petted?

How keen are they to sit with me with no treat reward vs. treat time?

Upon reaching maturity, does any of that change?

Pigeons are a very unusual sort of social among the columbidae.

Most other birds, including the vast majority of dove and pigeon species, see fully self feeding fledgelings as new competition for resources and drive them out of their territory.

They can feed off a rich ground together, but only watch out for and cooperate with their current mate. They do not seek out other birds’ company, they just happen to be in the same place at the same time.

Rock doves and their domesticated descendants' flocks are strikingly human like extended families.

Parents, grandkin, aunts, uncles, children, cousins, grand children: all live together year round in a nesting site that functions kinda like a human tribe or village.

Babies only ever leave the flock to start a new one when there are not enough resources to support the number of birds.

When they fledge and leave the nest, their dad takes over the bulk of their care. He feeds them, shows them where to find food, water, and nest material, and teaches them how to integrate into pigeon society.

When to be assertive so they don’t get crowded out and can get what they need, and when to defer to the status of an older, bigger bird to avoid being injured in a fight.

The rest of the flock will usually haze a peep the first day it's down: Basically each taking heir turn to assert "I'm older and bigger, and I out rank you." Knowing where they are in the chain of command makes things like coordinating flock foraging parties around avoiding predators and navigating changing weather conditions go smoothly when it's time to venture forth from the nesting grounds.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2015/06/150609213053.htm

Pigeon society is democratic.

Every fully fledged bird has a say in where they go and what they do on missions.

The individual that knows the best places to find food, water, or nest material will lead the mission out to get that thing, and the bird who is best at navigating leads the foraging party back home afterwards.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2010/04/100416214045.htm

Pigeon flocks are a meritocracy.

A mission leader earns that status by actually being the best at that specific task, and if some one else gets better at it, the flock will follow that bird instead.

https://www.audubon.org/news/in-homing-pigeon-flocks-bad-bosses-quickly-get-demoted

This one isn’t pigeon specific, but pigeons are SUPER communicative, and it would not surprise me to find that this applies to pigeon peeps as well.

https://www.mnn.com/earth-matters/animals/stories/baby-birds-communicate-eggs-hatch?fbclid=IwAR39CYrHAfFM6nAP8Rq3TvOox1p5vcb3Z87xqjPoiYNCwMoRvuQaWCeSFjs

Maybe less because their parents sit on them constantly, but I have seen evidence for peeps hatching with anxiety during a stressful time for the flock.

Pigeons, like baboons, are capable of higher level cognition.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2009/02/090212141143.htm

In fact, their brains are wired a lot like ours!

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2013/07/130717095336.htm

Facial recognition is as important to them as it is to us, and it functions the same way ours does.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2013/07/130717095336.htm

Like corvids, and unlike most parrots, pigeons recognize themselves in mirrors.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2008/06/080613145535.htm

I have seen evidence that they can differentiate a mirror from a photo and a video, and can recognize themselves in a video with significant delay.

This degree of self awareness is why their name is the first concrete thing my babies learn.

When a baby reaches a week of age, it gets a name and observes the older birds at treat time in my lap.

I greet each individual by name and give them a safflower seed held between thumb and forefinger. (Making my hand look more bird head shaped than the usual talon or snake head shape that hands present to birds on an instinctive level)

There are often individuals in a flock who will feed any peep that toddles up and begs. By doing treat time this way, I take on this "auntie" roll for my flock and emulate the comfort of being fed by a big, protective parent.

When the baby starts to peck and beg me for seeds, I greet it by name and pop a safflower seed into its mouth just like the adults.

That baby learns that its name specifies that I am addressing it, and no other bird, and associates being addressed by name with getting something good.

The end result is a baby who knows and eagerly responds to their name.

The information in these three studies:

proving that pigeons categorize like we do https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2014/04/140402095107.htm

They learn the equivalent of words the way human children do https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2015/02/150204184447.htm

And pattern map with enough nuance to differentiate a word from an acronym the same number of letters. https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2016/09/160919111535.htm

was the basis of my linguistic training with Ankhou.

Language is a pattern of matching words to objects, places, individuals, actions, and concepts.

Pigeons are communicative, social learning pattern mappers, already wired to map the pattern of language by the same mechanic as a human toddler.

My job is to feed Ankhou the pattern by which humans vocally communicate and let him do with it what pigeons do best.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2017/12/171204144805.htm

Pigeons understand abstracts like time and space.

Ankhou understands the abstract concepts of choice and consent, and is capable of giving me a clear yes or no answer.

And the exciting thing is that he isn’t special in that regard.

All pigeons are wired to learn language this way, and with patience and consistence, any of them at any age can be taught.

It's just easiest for babies who were raised with it.

Pigeon society is close enough to a big, extended human family that an individual pigeon can integrate easily into a human flock.

The more easily they can communicate with us and we can with them, the more easily they can integrate and the closer bonds they can form with their partner.

So the bulk of our research here at The Ramsey Loft is centered around decoding pigeon communication, pushing to see how much of ours they can be taught, what environment and methods are most conducive to teaching them, how big a part genetics play, and how accurately those traits can be selected for.

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dreamlanddoll · 4 years

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So... upon writing this I realized that I’ll have to play around with the ages and the timeline a bit since Roland and Cedric technically grew up together and if Roland had a child when they were both adults that means that Cedric would’ve seen you grow up so... yeah that’s a big uncomfy thing for me so I’m gonna go ahead and stretch Roland and Cedric’s age gap to 10 years instead of 3 so that would mean Roland has you in his very young adult years (21 or 22, which was very common back then, especially for royalty) and Cedric would be like 11 or 12 when you’re born.

Cedric x Eldest Daughter of King Roland!Reader

you two knew each other briefly in your childhood, but in all honesty, Cedric had little to no interest in getting acquainted with you, seeing as how you were only 3 years old, and he was a teenager.

in fact, he did everything within his power to avoid you, as he wasn’t all too fond of small children. This trait would continue to proceed in him into his adult years as well (cause he’s a grump)

when you grow up to be of an age old enough for school, around 5 or 6, you begin showing signs of remarkable talent in your academics classes, especially astronomy

this was also around the time that your younger brother and sister, Amber and James, were born. And upon your mother, the Queen, dying from childbirth, your father decided to send you to a boarding school for young, gifted royals.

so you never really got to grow up with your baby twin siblings, or even with your own dad. Which is a big regret of Rolands, believe me.

years pass and so much has happened without you, so upon arriving home in your mid-twenties, you’re buzzing to get filled in on everything

Neither Amber nor James remember you, but Amber is ecstatic to discover she’s had a big sister this whole time

“Oooh, I’ve always wanted a big sister! We can do each others hair and you can give me boy- or girl- advice and I can steal your dresses to borrow and-!”

“Ahem.”

“Oh, right, sorry, this is my little sister, Sofia. Well, I guess your little sister too!”

Sofia’s really happy to meet you, and asks you what boarding school was like. When you tell her that you majored in astronomy, Amber is jazzed.

She’s so excited that you both like the same things, and may or may not take up most of your time, but you two get along well

James was honestly hoping for a brother, because for the last 5 years it’s been mostly him and his dad with three other girls, but he decides to ask if you’ll sword fight with him anyway

when you say that you actually learnt how to in your fencing classes during your time at school, and that you’d be happy to practice sword fighting with him, James is suddenly sold on this whole second big sister thing.

Things between you and Miranda are kind of awkward at first, you’re this new girl- well, woman arriving at the castle that she’s only ever heard Rollie talk about, and now she was your mom too all of a sudden. Though she’s kind of relived to have another adult woman around the castle to talk about certain things with. You guys act more like wine-drinking buddies than mother and daughter.

Baileywick is delighted to see you again, and you him. You were always his favourite little princess, giving you head pats and sneaking you sweets before dinner to this very day. Since you were little he swears you’ve been more cordial than most of the castle staff. And he never, ever skipped on joining you for a tea party. You guys even hug, which is odd because Baileywick always had a strict ‘no-hugging’ rule between him and the royal family. But not you. You were like his friend.

you decide since you’re going to be sisters, and since Amber and James have taken up your time plenty that day, to get to know Sofia more.

“(Y/n), I don’t suppose you remember Mr. Cedric, do you?”

“...Who?”

it takes you a minute, but it clicks when Sofia describes the purple robe and the “weird, two-toned hair”

“Oohhh, I remember him! He didn’t seem to like me all that much though. I wouldn’t want to bother him.”

well too bad, Sofia’s yanking you up there to meet her favourite sorcerer. She talks your ear off about how great of a teacher, mentor and wizard he is while you haul yourselves up two flights of stairs.

upon Cedric opening the door, something seems different about him. He looks less tired, and more bright in the face. He smiled immediately when he saw that Sofia was at the door, and greets her in the most friendly way that you’ve never heard him speak in. Was this even the same boy you knew all those years ago?

Well, it was, and he’s quite surprised to see you... since he doesn’t know who you are

“Mr. Cedric, this is Princess (y/n), don’t you remember her?”

Cedric immediately recognizes your name, just not your face. He feels a little embarrassed for not knowing it was you at first, you’ve really quite grown since he last saw you. Though, Cedric still had a good few inches of height on you.

“M-my deepest apologies your Highness, I-I didn’t recognize you.” He bows, to your surprise.

“You don’t have to do that. Sofia was just telling me about how comfortable you two are with each other, so I don’t see why we can’t be the same.”

from then on, you spent a lot of time catching up with each other, which eventually grows into a good companionship between you, Cedric, and Sofia as they fill you in on all the adventures they’ve been on together. It’s all very exciting! You tell them that they’d have to take you sometime

though Sofia and Cedric leave out some stories, just to spare any bad opinions of either of them you may develop.

Cedric has to admit, it’s a bit nice to start fresh with someone of the royal family that didn’t know about all his past crimes

one day when you, Sofia and Cedric were all paling around in his tower, you decided to stay a little extra longer after Sofia leaves

you just wanted to talk with Cedric alone for a little bit, just to see what he’s like

Cedric’s a little nervous about being in a space all alone with you, you being a princess and all..

but you end up getting along really well, and so it started a routine of you staying just an extra hour or two after curfew, once Sofia had gone off to bed, to spend time alone with the royal sorcerer,

a lot of your friendly banter turns into sly quips, and eventually into flirting

this starts a series of events neither of you could’ve ever seen coming; developing feelings for one another

Cedric tells him self to get over you, to snap out of it millions of times. He doesn’t know why he needs to spell it out for himself that you are a princess, not only that, but King Roland’s daughter. So by that logic you should be 100% off limits, right?

tell that to his heart rapidly beating out of his chest when you touched his hand for the first time

you wondered if your feelings for him were even ethical. What would your father say? What would the Kingdom think if you two were together? It simply wouldn’t work out.

however, when you two are hanging out in his workshop one night, you both had been chatting and shyly flirting as he works, per usual. Cedric starts explaining spell-theory to you (which you found adorable), and you decided that you couldn’t take it anymore, so you defy all the rules and when he turns his head to you, you kiss him

no warning, no subtle hints that you like him, you just dive in forward with red cheeks and a racing heart and kiss him

and Cedric is just in complete shock

he doesn’t have any time to react or kiss you back, he sits there in complete awe.

he can’t believe that just happened. his mouth is completely agape and he can’t think straight for the life of him. You had kissed him, right on the lips- your soft, sweet lips, you, the princess, kissed him.

it takes a second before he gets off cloud nine when he realizes that oh no- you, the PRINCESS, just kissed him

he would no doubt be blamed for this. He panics. This is incredibly unethical. Is it even legal? He’s not sure, but he’s gonna stutter and ramble and lecture you about it. Of course he’s flattered and overjoyed you feel the same way that he feels about you. But you two? Together? It could never happen. It shouldn’t happen. It’s-

oops, you kissed him again to hopefully calm him down, and upon pulling apart you apologize

he takes a minute to think, absorbing everything. You’re worried you’ve upset him, but he looks at you with a frazzled expression and says,

“Promise to never let what just happened leave this room?”

you nod. “Agreed.”

“And also what’s about to happen?”

“Wha-?”

he kisses you that time.

from that day on you two are.... ??? with a bit of <333 but mostly ???!?????????????????

he doesn’t know what, and neither do you

all you both know is that you kissed, you both liked it, and you both haven’t spoken in 3 days

until you approach him about it

it’s very awkward, you two keep trying to talk at the same time, stopping yourselves and laughing, insisting that the other go first

you conclude that perhaps... if you both really tried, you could make something work between the two of you

Cedric concurs, trying to hide how wide his smile wants to reach across his face

you both go to bed extremely happy and giddy that night, thinking about each other until the second you each fall asleep

aside from the new relationship, hiding this from Roland is a whole other effort on it’s own

you two have to keep things very lowkey, you might secretly brush your hand against Cedric’s when with your family, making his heart jump in his chest the first dozen times

he gradually gets acquainted with your micro-affections in public, and gives you a tender, secret smile each time you do them, making a blush rise in your cheeks that you try to hide behind your fan

of course Sofia catches on to this, and of course Cedric can’t hide anything from her

she promises that she won’t tell their dad, much to Cedric’s relief

you two have lots of secret dates in his workshop, mostly at night when everybody else is asleep

you favourite thing to do together even now as a couple is play rainy indoor games like checkers, chess, cards, stuff like that

you’re both equally good at those things, so it’s always a fun competition

(winner always gets a kiss on the cheek <3)

when things start to get more... intimate in your relationship, it’s a very tricky procedure

the first time you slept over at Cedric’s, you woke up late and Baileywick had knocked on the door to ask Cedric if he’s seen Princess (Y/n)

oh he’s seen you alright

you ended up having to hide in his closet dressed in your nightgown as Baileywick proceeded to talk (more like order around) Cedric’s ear off for an hour.

now you know to get up 5 am, haul your clothes, quickly kiss Cedric goodbye and book it to the other side of the castle so that nothing would suspect a thing

Cedric still feels weird, and even kind of guilty for courting the King’s daughter, especially since their such close friends again

it’s all just a really weird situation for him

but it is for you too so he knows he’s not alone

the first time you tell him that you love him is when you’re explaining to him that no matter if your father finds out, you’ll still stay with him, even if it means you won’t become queen, even if Cedric is thrown out of the Kingdom, you’ll go with him

that means more to him than you could ever know, but he wouldn’t want to giving up the family you just got back for him, because he loves you too and wants you to be happy

#sofia the first #sofia the fandom #stf #sofia the first headcanons #stf headcanons #cedric the sorcerer #princess sofia #prince james #princess amber #king roland #queen miranda #baileywick #cedric the sorcerer x reader #baileywick probably knew the whole time and just kept quiet and pretended to be oblivious to it #he knows everything #baileywick always knows

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irenadel · 3 years

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i wanna talk books so I made a meme

@doorsclosingslowly here’s the answers to your questions :)

6. If you read in more than one language, is there a difference between the experience of reading in your native language(s) and reading in other languages?

Virginia Woolf has a great quote in A Room of One’s Own where she says that women writers need to develop their own “sentence” and that this can only be developed through creating a tradition of female writing. She says that while reading male writers is pleasurable, it isn’t useful for the female writer, that she can’t learn from the way men write. Their “sentence” isn’t suitable for female writing. I’m.... unsure of how much I agree with her on this but I find the theory useful for describing how I approach literature in Spanish vs English.

Especially in terms of language, not so much in regards to narrative or worldbuilding or even themes, I find Spanish to be pleasurable but not useful. I very rarely find myself reading something in Spanish and thinking “ooooh, I wish I could do that! I want to steal that! How did they come up with this?” The “sentence” for writing in Spanish isn’t one I recognize or want to imitate... except maybe for VERY few exceptions like Carlos Fuentes and Borges. Whereas I can spend a lot of time reading English un-selfconsciously and then suddenly be struck by a turn of phrase that I must somehow or other make my own. That almost never happens to me when reading Spanish.

9. Fiction or non-fiction or both? In what ratio? Where do you draw the line between the two?

Oh god, this is embarassing. Erm... fiction to a fault. On 2020 and 2019 I did try to make a concerted effort to read more nonfiction, ESPECIALLY more popular science books. I still kind of childishly consider myself to not be “smart like that” and that science isn’t for me, because I don’t understand it. I used to think science fiction wasn’t for me, for similar reasons. When I do read nonfiction it tends to be history and literary criticism.

I’m finishing my degree on English literature and though I had a period of hating hard on literary criticism, I think it was mostly me rebelling against the French brand of it. I HAVE to admit I love reading new historicism, especially now that I’m working on my dissertation and I had to read a lot on Elizabethan and Jacobean theatre.

Hopefully 2021 will be the year I read a bit more science.

11. The worst book hangover you’ve ever had

Augh... I remember two in recent years. Let me see... in 2017 I finished the last book in the Realm of the Elderlings. I had read the first book in the series around maybe the mid 2000s. I devoured it in a single weekend, still hungry for more of the story. I did not have access to the rest of the trilogy for a couple of years after, but as soon as I got them I read them as fast as I could. I remember reading those books during class, pretending to pay attention to a lecture on Linguistics but actually fully engrossed in Robin Hobb’s world.

It’s a world that was with me for more than 10 years. Characters that I knew intimately from multiple re-readings for more than 10 years. My dissertationg is about the first trilogy for crying out loud! I hadn’t wanted to read the last trilogy and the last book on the trilogy because I didn’t want that connection to end. But finally I gave in...

It was a book hangover because I was reading late at night when I realized, halfway through the book, a character I loved deeply was probably going to die and I just HAD to know, I HAD to be sure. So I read through the night going from disbelief to anger, to grief, to grim acceptance. I wasn’t able to put down the book until 11 am the next day, by which point I was openly sobbing and would have thrown the book across the room except I think I was reading in my computer.

The second book hangover I remember was less because of sprinting through the book and more because of the circumstances. Last December I had decided to finish as many books I could in hopes of reaching my Good Reads goal (which I didn’’t) and I was going through His Dark Materials pretty quickly when on the 25th I got the news that my grandmother died. I wasn’t able to go see her at the hospital or at a funeral, or even go see my dad and uncles because she had died of covid-19 and the situation was still pretty dire in the city.

Then Philip Pullman decided to be an absolute asshole to me and the characters in his book arrived to the Land of the Dead. Being an atheist fantasy series and me having just recently come to terms with the fact that I’m not even agnostic... it was very tough to go through Pullman’s exploration of mortality and the importance of life on Earth. I agreed completely that materiality and the here-and-now far outweigh any contemplations of an afterlife... but my grandmother had died very suddenly.... she had still been a pretty strong old lady before she contracted covid... I had spoken to her a couple of days before and she was still strong enough to bitch about litter getting inside her room...

I finished The Amber Spyglass in a rush as well and somehow it got mixed with my mourning process and my anger at myself for having taken my grandmother’s life for granted... for not having cherished the materiality of her existence when I had the chance... I hadn’t finished writing my dissertation’s first draft yet and there were some heavy issues going on in my household.... I was exhausted from having to survive the year and I think I still am... and it all mixed up with the bittersweet ending of Pullman’s His Dark Materials and the inevitability of loss... all I remember from between the 25th and the 31st of December 2020 was exhaustedly reheating Christmas food, trying to write, and slogging through The Amber Spyglass... it feels like it was a week-long literary hangover...

14. The book that, in hindsight, really should have clued you in to the fact that you’re _________ (queer/in love/doomed to be an academic/etc)

So this is slightly NSFW but I should have known, and stopped being such a snob about it, that I had WAY MORE in common with the furries than I cared to admit given that my first impression of Smaug the Golden when reading The Hobbit at the tender age of 8 was “wow! he’s dreamy!” *facepalm *(also betraying a worrying tendency to crushing on irredeemable assholes and other miscellaneous villains...) I have accepted my status as a weird monsterfucker AND a weird alienfucker. Inhuman anatomy makes me hot, and I should have known it from DAY ONE!

23. The book you expected to hate, didn’t, and then got angry about not hating

The Hunger Games, which I’m STILL salty about and will probably remain salty about for the rest of my life.

I hateread it because a friend told me about how he hated it, given his bitter ex loved it and though I agree with all his criticisms and have a bunch of my own... I still cannot stop finding stupid Katniss profoundly likeable! CURSES! A pox upon your house Suzanne Collins! I still think your dystopia is a cowardly, white-lady-who-has-never-feared-state-violence dystopia, I still think your love triangle was absolutely unnecessary and I still think you tried to cop out of admitting you (and your character) like pretty dresses by making the pretty dresses compulsory. Be brave! Don’t give me this “I’m not like other girls” bullshit! Be brave! Make your violent spectacle reality show as a criticism of the USA’s consumerism and callousness a voluntary thing! Don’t wash your heroine’s hands clean of the sin of wanting fame and fortune and survival at all costs!

But... fuck... I... still like Katniss... I’m glad little girls in 2008 got a heroine who kicked ass, looked good and wasn’t a perfectly strong and powerful person all the time. I’m glad they got competence and vulnerability... Fuck my life...

31. Bonus question: rec me something!

This is hard... since I get the feeling we have very different tastes in reading material but... If you haven’t heard of the Vampire: The Masquerade roleplaying game (or even if you have) take a crack at the Baali Clanbook. Even if you don’t understand the game mechanics I think you’ll enjoy the history portion because it’s about a clan of devil-worshipping vampires who do their devil worshipping through implanting evil insects on people... and I suspect it might be up your alley...

#book meme #doorsclosingslowly

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fromcrossroadstoking · 4 years

Text

The Memories That Stay

A ghost story of sorts about Chuck Grant and his not-exactly-alive WW2 soldier best friend.

Taglist: @indigosandviolets @itisjustmethistime @gottapenny

Chuck Grant has been haunted almost all his life. Quite literally.

At the tender age of 6, his parents made the fateful decision to move the family of three from California to Virginia. At a mere six years old, Chuck had very little say in the matter. He held small childish protests about wanting to stay at the beach with his nanny and grampy but, again, at only six, he was very easy to pickup and buckle in to a car seat despite his squirming.

Thankfully, six year olds are very easily distracted from their problems. The long car trip across the country filled with whining and wriggling and begging to get out and run around, was quickly erased from Chuck`s thoughts as he laid his eyes upon his new home.

The house was easily twice as large as his old one and surrounded by a sea of trees. Chuck`s eyes widened in delight - he had never seen so many trees in one place at one time! It was every child`s most wild desire - an entire forest at their fingertips to explore.

The house itself, though large, was nothing to drool over, or at least that`s what young Chuck heard his mom say. The house was old and rather run down looking inside and out. It needed work. A lot of it. Not that that was anything Chuck cared about; oh no, he had a thousand new places to explore and his small heart beat fast with excitement.

Chuck made his first new friend within a couple of days. As his parents cleaned and unpacked and did whatever else it is that grownups did when moving in to a new old house, Chuck played with his little green army men in the backyard. Chuck had been playing for a while when he decided it was time for the paratroopers to be deployed. He scooped them up in his hands and made loud airplane sounds as he swooped over the enemy camp and dropped the paratroopers upon them.

"There`s a tear in that one`s chute. Ain`t gonna survive with a tear in the chute."

Chuck`s head swiveled to face the direction of the unfamiliar voice. A man stood at the edge of the woods, just feet from him, dressed almost like one of his army men.

"What?" Now Chuck had been lectured about stranger danger and how he should never, ever talk to people he didn`t know but... well, the strange man had piqued Chuck`s interest with his comment.

"The paratrooper you just dropped. He`s got a tear in his chute. Ain`t gonna survive the jump like that 'cause the chute won`t work right."

Chuck scrunched up his face as he considered the man`s words and then turned to examine the chute of the recently deployed soldier. Lo and behold, there was indeed a tear in the parachute. This, of course, would not do. Before running off to demand his father fix it so that the mission could be completed, he turned back towards the nameless man to thank him (he was raised with manners after all).

The man was nowhere in sight.

A few days later the man appeared again. This time, however, it was in Chuck`s room and not the backyard which was odd because Chuck had not heard anyone come in.

"You fix the chute?"

Chuck stared at the stranger for a moment. His mother had just given him a fresh stranger danger lecture yesterday since they were now living in a new place and she felt he might need a reminder. But this man couldn`t be a stranger, could he? After all, if he was in the house, his parents must have let him in.

"Dad did."

"Good. You complete the mission?"

"Yeah."

The stranger smiled at him like he approved. And then he vanished. Which was another odd thing because Chuck had never seen someone vanish like that before. Somewhere in his six year old mind he chalked it up to magic, because as any child will tell you, magic is a very real thing, and went back to playing with his matchbox cars.

The odd man didn`t appear again until Saturday. Chuck knew it was Saturday because his favorite Saturday morning cartoons were on. He was parked on the floor in front of the television, eyes fixated on the bright colors of the screen as he shoveled a spoonful of extra sugary cereal in his mouth. As one character tricked another in to running off a cliff, Chuck heard a soft chuckle behind him. Turning to look, he found the magic vanishing man sitting on the couch.

"You like cartoons?"

"Guess I do. Never really watched them before."

He really was a very odd man.

Chuck launched in to a detailed explanation of the current show to let his new friend in on what he was missing. The man listened patiently as Chuck went on in the meandering, rambling way that children do when given the freedom to talk about something they`re enthusiastic about.

"Chuck, sweetie, who are you talking to?"

Chuck looked over at his mother, who stood in the living room doorway with a questioning look on her face.

"My friend!" Chuck pointed to a spot on the couch.

"Your friend? And what`s your friend`s name?"

Chuck paused a moment as he realized that he did not in fact know his new friend`s name. He looked at the man and questioned, "What`s your name?"

"Skinny."

Turning back to his mom, Chuck matter-of-factedly announced that his friend`s name was Skinny.

"Skinny?", his mom gave him a amused smile, "That`s a bit of an odd name, isn`t it?"

"That`s not nice, mom! You`re only 'sposed to say stuff when it`s nice stuff!"

"You`re right, hunny. I`m sorry. I`m going to go finish up the laundry. You and your friend have fun watching cartoons, okay?"

Skinny became a mainstay in the Grant household after that. Chuck`s parents figured this new imaginary friend was a result of the lack of other children (the new house was rather in the middle of nowhere) and a child`s overactive imagination. Chuck, for his part, was rather annoyed that his parents apparently couldn`t see his very real friend.

At age 8 he had even tried to explain to his parents that Skinny wasn`t imaginary, but in fact, a ghost (which was something that Skinny had carefully explained to him just a year ago). They hadn`t seemed to quite buy that.

It wasn`t until Chuck started getting older that his parents started worrying about the fact that his imaginary friend wasn`t disappearing. They began questioning him about his "friend" and Chuck didn`t like that too much. And Chuck especially didn`t like when they sent him to talk to someone about his friend. The office had been stuffy and the man had been old and had talked to him like he was some kind of baby - Chuck was ten at this point and didn`t care for that at all.

So Chuck smartened up. He stopped talking about Skinny to other people. He kept his voice low when he and Skinny were talking. Often he would take a walk in the woods, Skinny by his side, so that they could hold conversations without fear of being overhead. Sometimes he would scribble his side of the conversation in the margins of his notes or drawings, discreetly angling the paper so that Skinny could read it.

Chuck got very good at keeping Skinny secret.

It was in middle school, just a year or so later, that Chuck began asking Skinny more serious questions.

As a child, he would ask Skinny things like "Are there dinosaurs in heaven?" (Chuck hadn`t been sure he wanted to go to a heaven without dinosaurs in it.) He had even asked Skinny once if God really did care if you picked your nose like Chuck`s mom had said. Skinny didn`t have answer to that but assured Chuck that it was gross and he was better off using a tissue like everyone else.

Now the questions shifted to things like;

"You were in the Army?" - "Yep. 101st Airborne. 506th. Easy Company."

"Were you ever in combat?" - "I was. Fought in World War 2."

"Did you kill people?" - "Yes."

"Where do you go when you`re not here?" - "Don`t know. Don`t remember where I`ve been once I reappear."

"Why are you a ghost?" - "Don`t know that either."

"How did you die?"

When Chuck asked Skinny how he died, there was a long silence like Skinny was carefully chewing over his words before speaking. And once he did start speaking, it took him awhile to get through the story. He kept pausing, rubbing his hands together, shifting in his spot atop the fallen log he occupied.

"Well, you see, we were in this place. Hagenau. Ugly, cold place. It was better than where we were though. Bastogne, that`s where we had just been, you know? That was frozen over hell. Anything was better than that. Hagenau - we at least had roofs over our heads and beds to sleep in. We even got showers. Food was still awful, but at least we had some. And, well. You see... in Hagenau we had to run this patrol, right? And Shifty, my best friend, you remember me telling you about him? Well, Shifty was supposed to go on it. But he was feeling really bad. He was real sick. It was all that cold, you know? So, Shifty was supposed to go and he was feeling real bad, so I told him I`d take his place. Winters was okay with it. So I took his place. Well, on the patrol... on the patrol we had to go in this house. And. And I was lead. And Jackson, this real young kid, he was right on top of me. Could almost feel his breath on the back of my neck. And Jackson, well, he threw this grenade in the house right as I`m about to go in. Got a face full of grenade. And I survived. They got me back to the house we were staying at. I remember that. I don`t remember much, `cause of the pain, but I remember that. I remember Doc Roe, remember his hands, remember him telling me 'Alright now, Skinny. I got you. It`s alright.' And then that`s it. Don`t remember anything after that. I was just suddenly in my childhood home again. So here I am."

The next day at school, Chuck goes to the library to use the school computers there. He tries his hardest to look up Skinny, his unit, anything. There isn`t much out there, just some scant information and half illegible old Army records. But then he finds the one thing he didn`t expect - a book specifically about Skinny`s company. He writes down the book title and the author`s name on a scrap of paper he has with him. The middle school library doesn`t have the book, but he`s sure he can get his dad to take him to the town library next weekend.

It`s at the library that Chuck hits the proverbial jackpot. Not only does he find the book he`s looking for, but there are books by other men who served in Easy Company too. There`s even a book about Shifty, Skinny`s best friend.

Chuck checks them all out.

Skinny`s reaction is not quite what Chuck expected. He eyes the books with interest but remains quite, says nothing. Chuck expected at least some excitement, a little gratitude at least.

But at Chuck`s offer to read him the books out loud, Skinny merely declines with a slight shake of his head before dissolving away.

It would be several days before Chuck sees Skinny again. Chuck, although only twelve at the time, instinctively understands that the war is a topic that Skinny would rather avoid and so he avoids it too.

The books are returned to the library, unread.

Chuck leaves the topic well enough alone until his junior year of high school. He takes an AP US History class and his teacher happens to be rather fixated on the topic of World War 2. Chuck has never been so interested in a class before. He listens with rapt attention, delves whole-heartedly in to the readings, and even chooses to do his final paper on the Battle of the Bulge.

He carefully keeps this all away from Skinny, of course. Although, the more Chuck learns, the greater the itch is to ask Skinny questions. But Skinny has been his best friend for almost eleven years now and Chuck knows the topic is painful, so he bites his tongue.

Skinny notices of course. He notices the history books that Chuck hides away in his backpack. He notices the internet tabs opened to sites on World War 2 that are hurriedly closed when Skinny appears. He notices how Chuck practically doubles himself over papers that he`s working on, as if to hide the assignments from Skinny. Skinny might be a ghost, but he`s not dumb.

It`s winter break of Chuck`s senior year of high school when Skinny asks Chuck to sit down with him for a long overdue conversation. Chuck`s parents are away at some conference or other and it`s just Chuck and Skinny alone in the house. The wind howls outside as a blizzard blows through -the world beyond the four walls of the house is barely visible thanks to the whirlwind of white. Chuck can tell the weather unsettles Skinny in some way. It always does.

There is a long stretch of silence after they take their seats - Chuck curled under a blanket on the sofa, Skinny sitting in the recliner across from him, leg bouncing a million miles per hour. Chuck lets the quiet goes on for as long as it has to. Skinny will talk when he`s ready. Chuck need only be patient.

And when Skinny finally breaks the silence that has been dragging on for a handful of minutes and begins his story, Chuck sits stock still and listens intently. He knows better than to interrupt.

When Skinny finishes telling Chuck everything - why he joined the paratroopers, the training at Toccoa, the friends he made, the friends he lost, the terror of war, what it felt like to take another`s life - Skinny seems different somehow. Lighter. Relieved almost.

But still. Chuck`s gut says there`s something else. Perhaps it`s the way Skinny`s face scrunches or the quick flash of... worry? guilt?... that passes over Skinny`s face. But Chuck knows better than to push.

Skinny will talk when he`s ready.

Skinny is perched on the desk in Chuck`s room as Chuck packs. Chuck can tell Skinny is anxious from the way he chews on his bottom lip. Truth be told, Chuck is a bit anxious too. Well. Perhaps more than a bit anxious.

When they had moved in oh so many years ago, the house had stood abandoned (except for a handful of squatters here and there) since the early fifties. Skinny`s family had been the last ones to properly live there. Except, of course, for Skinny. Although Chuck wasn`t sure the word "living" could be applied to Skinny`s situation.

Skinny had been alone for decades before the the Grants moved in. And now here Chuck was, the only person of their little family who could see Skinny, packing to go away to college.

The plan was for Skinny to attempt to follow Chuck. In the beginning it had seemed that Skinny was restricted to the house and surrounding property. But over the years, Skinny slowly gained the ability to follow Chuck places and would pop up at school (test days were a lot easier when you had a ghost whispering you the answers), weddings (much less boring with a ghost friend in tow), and even a funeral (admittedly a bit of an awkward thing to attend with a ghost). The thing was despite accompanying him on hikes and grocery trips and ice cream runs, Skinny had never been able to follow Chuck more than a few counties over. And the college that Chuck was attending was definitely more than a few counties over.

The thought of Skinny not being able to follow him, of having to leave Skinny alone, made Chuck`s chest tighten with worry and even a bit of guilt. He crossed his fingers that his theory proved accurate - as time went on Skinny was becoming more attached to Chuck than to the house (which would be an unsettling theory if the ghost was anyone but Skinny). It had been a couple of years since Chuck had gone beyond Skinny`s boundaries. This would be the ultimate test.

Chuck held his breath the day he moved in to the dorms. He was waiting for some sign of Skinny. The hours wore on - he unpacked, met his roommate, walked the campus with his parents, and even had dinner with them. Still no Skinny. Chuck could feel his heart sinking as the sun began to go down. His stomach twisted at the thought of how Skinny would be all alone again, save for the times Chuck visited home.

His roommate dragged him out to a party later that night. Chuck wasn`t all too fond of his roommate or the party but he went anyway. What else is a kid supposed to do during his first night at college?

The next morning - mid morning really - Chuck woke up to discover his roommate (John? Jake?) was already long gone. Groaning, he buried his face in his pillow. Yep, he had definitely had too much to drink if the hammering in his head was any indication.

"Already having too much fun? Come on now, Chuck. I can`t even leave you for a day anymore."

Chuck`s head whipped up, far too fast for the likes of the throbbing in his skull, at the sound of the familiar teasing voice.

Skinny had made it.

Chuck had been right it turns out - Skinny had slowly become more attached to him than to the house over the years. And during Chuck`s freshman year of college, the two of them take full advantage of this fact.

Skinny tags along to amusement parks and museums and bars and parties. He follows Chuck to the library and to football games and hockey games and baseball games. At Skinny`s request, Chuck even goes to the zoo and the aquarium - Skinny always wanted to see penguins and tigers.

Freshman year and the subsequent summer are non stop adventures for the duo. They were constantly heading one place or another, sometimes with other people in tow, sometimes just the two of them.

Skinny does more in that one year than he had in the several decades preceding.

That summer, Chuck decides to get an apartment instead of moving back in to the dorms. Of course, Chuck knows that he`ll need to get a roommate in order to swing rent, so he looks on the college`s "Roommates Wanted" Facebook page. And that is where he meets Floyd Talbert.

"What if he`s crazy?"

"He`s not."

"You don`t know that."

"Well, I talk to a ghost so if either of us is crazy, it`s probably me."

Turns out Floyd prefers to be called Tab. Also, turns out that he and Chuck make fast friends.

They meet a couple times that summer before officially agreeing to become roommates. After grabbing lunch for the second time, Chuck decides Tab seems like an okay guy. Skinny, thankfully, agrees.

As sophomore year gets under way and the months start to turn cooler, Chuck wrestles with a very important decision. In just a few short months, Tab had quickly become one of the closest friends Chuck had ever had (the other being Skinny). And with Skinny being such an important part of Chuck`s life, it began feeling odd to leave Tab in the dark.

But... how exactly do you go about telling your new best friend that you`ve been haunted by the ghost of a WW2 paratrooper since you were six? And that said paratrooper was your absolute best friend? And that said paratrooper was also currently a third, albeit invisible, roommate in the tiny apartment that you and your actually alive friend share?

Chuck could already tell it was going to be an awkward conversation.

"Wait. You`re actually serious?"

"Yeah, I am."

"So you`re telling me, very seriously, that the ghost of some dude who died in World War 2 has been haunting you since you were a little kid? And he`s now like, attached to you? And that doesn't hit you as creepy? At all?"

"Well, to be fair, I did move in to his childhood bedroom. He was sorta there first. And Skinny`s not creepy. If you could just meet him, you`d-"

"But I can`t. Because he`s dead."

"Yeah."

An awkward silence stretched between them before Tab finally spoke again.

"Prove it."

"What?"

"If you don`t want me to think you`re crazy, prove there`s a ghost here. Have him... I don`t know... open the cabinets, slam doors, stack chairs, you know - go full poltergeist."

"Uhh.." Chuck hesitated. Skinny could do exactly none of those things. Hell, it had taken the better part of several years just to get Skinny to the point where he could move a lightweight cup the incredibly impressive distance of an inch.

"Hold on." Chuck went to the cupboard and pulled out the lightest cup he could find - a neon orange plastic thing with the name of a bar and a handful of scantily clad women printed on it. Setting it down on the counter between him and Tab, he took a step back.

"Skinny, can you move the cup please?"

Chuck watched the corners of Skinny`s mouth turn down ever so slightly as he stepped forward.

"I`ll do my best, kid."

There is nothing but silence in the room as a small eternity passes before the cup begins to move. Slowly, slowly, it creeps to the left just about an inch. Chuck lets out a small breath of relief that Skinny was able to do it.

"That`s it?"

Chuck throws a glare at the fully unimpressed Tab, "It`s not like the movies, okay? It took him a long time just to learn how to do that!"

"Alright, fine. He really can`t do anything else?"

"No, he-" And that`s when Chuck has a brilliant idea.

"Okay, how about this? Write something on a piece of paper and hold it so that someone reading over your shoulder can read it. Skinny`ll tell me what it says."

"Okay," Tab shrugs, obviously still not fully buying the whole Chuck-has-a-ghost-friend deal. Still, he grabs a pen and paper and does as instructed.

"This is fucking stupid."

"I know, Skinny. But can you just tell me what it says?"

"That`s what it says: This is fucking stupid."

Chuck snorts and repeats the phrase. He doesn`t miss the quick flash of surprise on Tab`s face. And then the games begin.

Tab has Chuck wear a blindfold. Chuck still gets the words correct.

Tab has Chuck sit in another room. Chuck gets the words correct again.

Tab has Chuck sit in another room while blindfolded. Chuck is correct yet again.

Eventually, Tab admits defeat.

"Alright, so there`s a ghost named, of all things, Skinny, here."

"Well, his name`s technically Wayne but he prefers to be called Skinny."

"Right. Well, please tell Skinny that I say hi and that it`s nice to meet him. Well, sort of meet him."

"Please tell Tab that I`m dead, not deaf. I can hear his loudmouth just fine."

It`s a bit of a relief now that Tab knows about Skinny. Chuck doesn`t have to keep such a large secret from Tab anymore and he can even talk to Skinny out loud now when Tab is home.

It proves to be a bit of an adjustment on Tab`s part but he eventually gets the hang of deciphering when Chuck is talking to him and when Chuck is talking to Skinny. He even gets used to talking to Skinny through Chuck. Too used to it, one might say.

"Hey, Skinny, can you walk through walls?"

There`s a beat before Chuck replies with Skinny`s answer, "Yes."

"Skinny, was there like a white light when you died?"

Again, another beat before Chuck repeats Skinny`s answer for the non-ghost-vision-inclined, "Not that I remember, sorry."

"Hey, Skinny, what`s jumping out of a plane like?"

"Hey, did you have Cheerios in the 1940s?"

"Skinny, did you have tv as a kid?"

"Did you eat pizza in the 40s? Did they deliver?"

"What`s your favorite decade so far?"

"What do you miss the most about being alive?"

"What`s the best part about being a ghost?"

"Are you ever offended by scary ghost stereotypes? What about when people wear sheets and pretend to be ghosts?"

"Have you ever met another ghost?"

Tab`s questions were un-ending from the moment he accepted Skinny`s existence as a fact. Chuck occasionally considered smothering Tab with a pillow just to get a break from his ghost interpreter job for five damn minutes.

It`s a bright and cold winter morning when Tab asks what turns out to be a very important question, "Are any of your soldier buddies still alive?"

"I don`t know."

"He doesn`t know," Chuck relays the answer to Tab.

"Do you want to know?"

Skinny is quiet for a long moment.

"I don`t know."

Tab`s the one who finds out about the living members of Easy. There aren`t many - just a handful left - and only one that`s close by.

"You`re stalker skills are... concerning."

"Research skills. And they weren`t that hard to find."

Skinny is off doing whatever it is ghosts do when they aren`t visible, so it`s just Tab and Chuck holed up in the university library doing homework. Well, Chuck is doing homework. Tab is apparently tracking down WW2 veterans.

"Whatever you say. Don`t know why you`re so dead set on this. We don`t even know if Skinny will even want to see any of them."

"Well, his soul has to be hanging around for a reason, right? Maybe he needs closure. And then he can move on, you know, in to the white light and all that jazz."

Chuck makes a soft mmm sound in the back of his throat as he turns back to his chemistry textbook.

"You do want him to move on, don`t you?"

Chuck doesn`t respond because he doesn`t know the answer. Sure, Skinny has been around long enough. He deserves to move on. But...

That night as Chuck is laying in bed, trying to fall asleep, he`s plagued by memories -

He`s just a kid, legs barely long enough to reach the pedals of his bike. His parents told him to wait, told him he wasn`t tall enough for the big kid bike yet, wasn`t ready to ride a bike without training wheels. It`s a hot summer day, sweat glues his shirt to him, as he gets up after falling from the bike yet again. Skinny is there. Encouraging him, giving him tips, telling him he can do it if he just tries one more time. Chuck goes home that night, just as the sun is going down, with scraped up knees and a new found ability to ride a big kid bike.

He`s eight years old and his parents are fighting. It`s loud and angry and scary and unlike any fight Chuck has ever heard before. Skinny convinces Chuck to sneak outside. It`s pouring out but Skinny swears worm hunting is best when it`s pouring buckets. Skinny talks the entire time - non stop and loudly - it`s very unlike Skinny. But between the rain crashing down and Skinny`s incessant chatter, Chuck can`t hear a word of his parents' shouting.

It`s ninth grade and Chuck is struggling to remember the answer to number ten on his science test. He`s already answered everything else on the test and he knows that this last answer is buried somewhere in his brain, if only he could just drag it to the surface. His face is crinkled in frustration and he chews at his bottom lip. Skinny quietly steps in and gently prods him towards the right answer. When Chuck gets the graded test back, there`s a bright red "A" on top.

Chuck crashes his car during his senior year of high school. Chuck is fine, the car not so much. The little junker car Chuck had worked so hard to save up for is totaled and Chuck takes the loss hard. Skinny stays up all night long with Chuck that night. He tells Chuck jokes and funny stories. He even tells Chuck about the time he got caught on the train tracks with a girl and his response to Sobel when questioned about it - “The train was coming, she was coming, and so was I.” Chuck cracked a smile for the first time that day.

The next morning, Chuck has officially made up his mind. As much as he doesn`t want Skinny to go, as much as he doesn`t want to risk losing his best friend, Skinny has more than earned the right to find some peace.

It`s just the two of them at the breakfast table. Tab, who doesn`t get up before 10 am unless there is an emergency, is still sound asleep. It`s the perfect opportunity for a long overdue talk.

"Hey Skinny?"

"Yeah?"

"You know, we, uh, did some research, and some of your old company is still alive."

Skinny looks at him curiously and says nothing.

"Winters is alive. And Malarkey. Guarnere and Heffron too. And, uh," Chuck hesitates because he knows the weight of the next name, it`s the weight of a best friend left behind, the weight of someone he died in place of, "Shifty`s alive too. Not far from here. Less than an hour, actually."

The look on Skinny`s face is one that Chuck can`t name and Chuck can`t help but worry that he made the wrong decision in telling him about Shifty as Skinny slowly fades from view.

Chuck doesn`t see Skinny again until the next day. He simply appears from thin air next to Chuck during his morning lecture.

"I want to see Shifty."

Chuck nods and Skinny disappears again.

The day that they pile in to Tab`s car and drive the 45 minutes to the Powers residence, there isn`t a plan really.

The car is packed with tension filled silence as they finally pull up in front of Shifty`s house. It`s a modest but inviting looking home on an unpaved back road. The neighborhood consists of more trees than houses, making their presence conspicuous.

The three of them sit quietly in the car, gazing at the house, unsure of what to do next. The silence only seems to grow thicker before Skinny finally speaks up.

"Can I... can we... go talk to him?"

"Yeah, okay."

Chuck isn`t sure how this is going to work exactly. Knocking on some elderly man`s door and telling him his best friend who died decades ago is currently a ghost that would like to speak to him, isn`t your standard conversation. But he owes it to Skinny to try. So he slowly gets out of the car and makes his way to the house, Tab and Skinny in tow.

The bundle of nerves in Chuck`s stomach threatens to swallow him whole as he knocks on the door. An older man wearing a button down shirt and tidy tan slacks, who Chuck assumes can only be Shifty, answers the door.

"May I help you?" The man`s voice is surprisingly soft. Far from the grizzled harsh voice of a veteran that Chuck was expecting.

"Uh, yes sir. My name is Chuck, Chuck Grant, and this is my friend, Floyd Talbert. We`re here because, well, I moved in to the childhood home of your friend, Skinny, and turns out he was still there. His spirit, I mean, and-"

A dark look crosses the older man`s face, "Now, I don`t have time for these kind of jokes. They ain`t very funny." He begins to close the door and Chuck puts his hand out to stop him.

"Please sir," Chuck shoots a desperate looking at Skinny, quietly pleading for some direction.

"Say... say 'remember when we stole Dike`s chocolate ration and gave it to Doc 'cause he was looking real bad'!"

Chuck hurriedly repeats the words to Shifty, whose mouth drops open a little as he hears what Chuck is saying.

"Now, who told you about that? Skinny and I were the only ones who knew where we got that chocolate from."

"I`m telling you sir, Skinny is here. His ghost is. Right here, on your porch, next to me."

"Tell him 'I never did get to take your sister out dancing'.'"

As Chuck repeats after Skinny, he can see something click behind Shifty`s eyes. Maybe it`s the words he says or maybe it`s the desperate, pleading look on Chuck`s face or maybe it`s both of those things combined, Chuck doesn`t know, but Shifty seems to soften.

"You ain`t lyin', are you?." And with that, Shifty invites them inside.

"Skinny used to joke that when we got home, he was goin' to take my sister out dancin' and she`d fall in love with him and he was goin' to be my brother-in-law." Shifty smiles fondly at the memory as he recalls it.

They`re all sitting in Shifty`s living room now, cups of coffee in hand.

It`s awkward at first but it seems that Skinny and Shifty easily fall back in to their old banter despite the odd barrier of one of them being technically dead and having to speak through a third party.

Track of time is easily lost that day. Stories and jokes and memories are exchanged without end. In a way, Skinny feels more alive than he has in a very, very long time.

The sun is just disappearing beyond the horizon when Skinny says something that he`s wanted to say for decades. He carefully tells Chuck the exact words to say.

"Skinny says he doesn`t regret it, the patrol. He doesn`t regret going on that patrol for a second. He needs you to know that because he knows how you are, how you`ve probably felt guilty about that this whole time. He says he doesn`t want you to feel guilty. He`s never blamed you and he doesn`t want you blaming yourself. He`d take your place on that patrol even if he knew what was going to happen."

There`s quiet after Chuck finishes speaking. There are tears glistening in Shifty`s eyes and they began to roll down his cheeks as he shoulders began to softly shake.

"Thank you, Skinny."

An hour or so later, when they finally begin to leave, Shifty presses something in to Chuck`s hand.

Chuck looks down at what Shifty has given him. It`s an old photograph of a young paratrooper, a giant grin splashed across his face. He recognizes Skinny immediately.

"Shifty, I can`t-"

"Hush now. I want you to have it. You`ve done more for me today than I can ever explain."

Shifty shakes Chuck`s hand with an unexpected amount of strength and something in Chuck`s gut tells him this is the last time he`ll ever speak to Shifty.

The ride home is quiet but unlike the tension filled silence of the ride to Shifty`s house, this quiet is a peaceful one. A weight has been lifted and everyone in the car, especially Skinny and Chuck, can feel it.

Chuck is out like a light almost as soon as he walks through the door of their apartment. Being the go between for the living and the dead is a surprisingly exhausting job.

Skinny quietly watches Chuck sleep - Chuck, who he has watched grow up, who has become like Skinny`s own flesh and blood. He smiles softly, grateful for the second chance at family that he received, so long after his own family had died out.

He can feel something like a light tugging sensation and he knows it`s time. Some part of him understands that he`s free to move on now, to leave this world behind finally, and move on to the next.

Chuck is out cold and Skinny has no desire to wake him. There is no need for this to be any harder than it has to be.

"Love you, kid. Be good." Chuck can hear him, at least some part of him can. Skinny knows it.

When Chuck wakes up the next morning, he knows almost immediately that Skinny is gone. There is an emptiness that Chuck has never felt until now. Before, even when Skinny disappeared from sight, it was like Chuck could feel his presence - it was a warm, familiar thing. But this morning, there is nothing. Nothing but the faint impression of a goodbye residing in his mind like a fuzzy, worn out photo.

There`s an article in the local newspaper a few days later - WW2 Vet, "Shifty Powers", Passed Away. It`s not a headline most people would smile at. But Chuck does.

Shifty and Skinny will finally get to see each other face to face again.

Shifty`s funeral is a large affair. Beloved by the entire community, he is mourned by entire crowds of people.

Chuck is the only one to feel the loss of Skinny.

It`s an odd thing to be the only one mourning the loss of someone - to be the only one to know that someone was even gone. Sure, there was Tab, but he had never really "met" Skinny - he had only ever interacted with him through Chuck.

No, the loss of Skinny was Chuck`s loss to bear alone.

It`s been months now since Skinny moved on. Chuck still feels the pang of loss, although the pain becomes less sharp as each day passes.

Sophomore year is almost over now and Chuck takes a seat at his desk to get started on his final paper for the creative writing elective he signed up for. The final paper is supposed to be an original story and the professor has given them free reign to write on any topic they want.

Chuck has decided to write a ghost story, of sorts - a ghost story about someone, barely out of their teen years, who loses his life fighting a war an ocean away, and takes a dirt-covered little kid under his wing decades later. The words come easy, flowing almost effortlessly, as he writes. He pours every little bit of love, of sadness, of grief, he has into the paragraphs. In many ways, what he writes is a memorial to his dear lost friend.

Watching over Chuck`s progress from atop the bookshelf behind him, is a black and white photograph of a smiling young paratrooper, now housed in a simple black frame, a little green Army man with a patched up parachute standing guard next to it.

#band of brothers #band of brothers fanfiction #chuck grant #skinny sisk #floyd talbert #shifty powers #i wrote a thing

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welcometothebookreport · 3 years

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Top 10 Books of 2020!

My goal was to try reading 100 books in 2020. That more than happened—thanks for being so weird 2020—but then narrowing that list down to favorites was another story! It was surprisingly not as hard as I expected to think of a book to fill the first, second, and tenth slots… everything in the middle was more of a challenge. Here’s an attempt at a cohesive list of favorites!

10. Curvy Girls Can’t Date Best Friends by, Kelsie Stelting

Summary: It was all fake dating and games until my heart got involved… I wanted to have the best summer ever. To have my first kiss and finally get my brother’s best friend to notice me. So I talked my best friend Carson into helping. He’d do anything for me, and I’d do the same for him. But somewhere between fake dating and pretending to fall in love with him, I fell for real. And it was the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. In the last four books of The Curvy Girl Club, Carson and Callie have stayed best friends. Now it’s time for a love story all their own. Start reading Curvy Girls Can’t Date Best Friends today for a story sweeter and more delicious than honey!

Rating (out of 7): 6

Warnings: Depictions and mentions of both child abuse and domestic abuse; fat shaming

Thoughts: It’s best friends. It’s pining. It’s fake dating when they both discover the feels are real--and maybe, perhaps--have been there all along. This is tender, thoughtful, caring, funny. There is forgiveness from old enemies; a reconciling between old friends. My only minor complaint would be the pacing felt rushed after a certain point, leading up to the climax. THe resolution was beautiful, though, and I thoroughly enjoyed this book!

9. Dream Lake: A Friday Harbor Novel by, Lisa Kleypas

Summary: In New York Times bestselling author Lisa Kleypas's Dream Lake, readers well enter the world of Friday Harbor, an enchanting town in the Pacific Northwest where things are not quite as they seem and where true love might just have a ghost of a chance...They say that opposites attract. But what happens when one of them has been devastated by betrayal and the other is so damaged and jaded that his heart is made of stone? Alex Nolan is about as bitter and cynical as they come. One of three Nolan brothers who call Friday Harbor home, he's nothing like Sam or Mark. They actually believe in love; they think the risk of pain is worth the chance of happiness. But Alex battles his demons with the help of a whiskey bottle, and he lives in his own private hell. And then, a ghost shows up. Only Alex can see him. Has Alex finally crossed over the threshold to insanity? Zoë Hoffman is as gentle and romantic as they come. When she meets the startlingly gorgeous Alex Nolan, all her instincts tell her to run. Even Alex tells her to run. But something in him calls to Zoë, and she forces him to take a look at his life with a clear eye and to open his mind to the possibility that love isn't for the foolish. The ghost has been existing in the half-light of this world for decades. He doesn't know who he is, or why he is stuck in the Nolans' Victorian house. All he knows is that he loved a girl once. And Alex and Zoë hold the key to unlocking a mystery that keeps him trapped here. Zoë and Alex are oil and water, fire and ice, sunshine and shadow. But sometimes it takes only a glimmer of light to chase away the dark, and sometimes love can reach beyond time, space, and reason to take hold of hearts that yearn for it…

Rating (out of 7): 6.5

Warnings: alcoholism, divorce, afterlife, spirituality, sexual content, aging (dementia)

Thoughts: I have become a huge Lisa Kleypas fan this year. Her characters are endearing and gripping. This story is emotive, compassionate, caring, and thoughtful in its pursuit of telling two love stories. One that reaches beyond life and death, the other determined to overcome any and all obstacles. The pining, family, togetherness, support, and depth in this story is everything I could have asked for and more.

8. An Ember in the Ashes by, Sabaa Tahir

Summary: Laia is a slave. Elias is a soldier. Neither is free. Under the Martial Empire, defiance is met with death. Those who do not vow their blood and bodies to the Emperor risk the execution of their loved ones and the destruction of all they hold dear. It is in this brutal world, inspired by ancient Rome, that Laia lives with her grandparents and older brother. The family ekes out an existence in the Empire’s impoverished backstreets. They do not challenge the Empire. They’ve seen what happens to those who do. But when Laia’s brother is arrested for treason, Laia is forced to make a decision. In exchange for help from rebels who promise to rescue her brother, she will risk her life to spy for them from within the Empire’s greatest military academy. There, Laia meets Elias, the school’s finest soldier—and secretly, its most unwilling. Elias wants only to be free of the tyranny he’s being trained to enforce. He and Laia will soon realize that their destinies are intertwined—and that their choices will change the fate of the Empire itself.

Rating (out of 7): 7

Warnings: depictions of graphic violence, slavery, mention of brothels, arena style fight-to-the-death scenes, war,

Thoughts: Harrowing, gripping, haunting, inspiring, compelling. An incredible beginning to an amazing series. The love story is a single, red line that weaves between the characters individual stories, twining them in undeniable ways. It was perfect from beginning to end.

7. A Vow So Bold and Deadly by, Brigid Kemmerer

Summary: Fall in love, break the curse. It once seemed so easy to Prince Rhen, the heir to Emberfall. Cursed by a powerful enchantress to repeat the autumn of his eighteenth year over and over, he knew he could be saved if a girl fell for him. But that was before he learned that at the end of each autumn, he would turn into a vicious beast hell-bent on destruction. That was before he destroyed his castle, his family, and every last shred of hope. Nothing has ever been easy for Harper. With her father long gone, her mother dying, and her brother barely holding their family together while constantly underestimating her because of her cerebral palsy, she learned to be tough enough to survive. But when she tries to save someone else on the streets of Washington, DC, she's instead somehow sucked into Rhen's cursed world. Break the curse, save the kingdom. A prince? A monster? A curse? Harper doesn't know where she is or what to believe. But as she spends time with Rhen in this enchanted land, she begins to understand what's at stake. And as Rhen realizes Harper is not just another girl to charm, his hope comes flooding back. But powerful forces are standing against Emberfall . . . and it will take more than a broken curse to save Harper, Rhen, and his people from utter ruin.

Rating (out of 7): 7

Warnings: mentions and depictions of blood, violence, fight scenes,

Thoughts: This is the book that had me diving head first into the pool of all books Brigid Kemmerer. Her style is efficient, clear, vivid, transportive, and emotive. She knows her characters, and has a way of making me feel connected to them. I empathize with them, even when they’re being stupid. She humanizes everyone she writes. Her pacing is perfection. This book is my favorite retelling of Beauty and the Beast out there.

6. Defy the Stars by, Claudia Gray

Summary: She's a soldier--Noemi Vidal is willing to risk anything to protect her planet, Genesis, including her own life. To their enemies on Earth, she's a rebel. He's a machine--Abandoned in space for years, utterly alone, Abel's advanced programming has begun to evolve. He wants only to protect his creator, and to be free. To the people of Genesis, he's an abomination. Noemi and Abel are enemies in an interstellar war, forced by chance to work together as they embark on a daring journey through the stars. Their efforts would end the fighting for good, but they're not without sacrifice. The stakes are even higher than either of them first realized, and the more time they spend together, the more they're forced to question everything they'd been taught was true. An epic and romantic adventure, perfect for fans of The Lunar Chronicles and Illuminae.

Rating (out of 7): 7

Warnings: depictions of space warfare, AI, spirituality and other religious themes explored.

Thoughts: Claudia Gray is one of my favorite authors. She is bold and fearless in her themes. Her characters slay me. Their love story is subtle, yet immediately gripping. She’s transformative. There is a heart and depth explored in this story that moved me to tears multiple times throughout the book.

5. Call It What You Want by, Brigid Kemmerer

Summary: New York Times bestselling author Brigid Kemmerer pens a new emotionally compelling story about two teens struggling in the space between right and wrong. When his dad is caught embezzling funds from half the town, Rob goes from popular lacrosse player to social pariah. Even worse, his father's failed suicide attempt leaves Rob and his mother responsible for his care. Everyone thinks of Maegan as a typical overachiever, but she has a secret of her own after the pressure got to her last year. And when her sister comes home from college pregnant, keeping it from her parents might be more than she can handle. When Rob and Maegan are paired together for a calculus project, they're both reluctant to let anyone through the walls they've built. But when Maegan learns of Rob's plan to fix the damage caused by his father, it could ruin more than their fragile new friendship... In her compulsively readable storytelling, Brigid Kemmerer pens another captivating, heartfelt novel that asks the question: Is it okay to do something wrong for the right reasons?

Rating (out of 7): 7

Warnings: mentions of previously attempted suicide, theft, mention of past standardized test cheating, mention of professor-student consensual relations (the student is 18), discussion of abortion vs. single motherhood

Thoughts: EVERYONE NEEDS TO READ THIS BOOK!!! Whether I agree with all the characters and their opinions and decisions by the end of this book or not, I understand them. I have come through this story with them, and I understand them. I respect them. I cheer for them. I would die for them. The humanity and compassion woven into this story. The many threads and pieces that weave and wind together to make it so beautiful. I repeat: everyone should read this book.

4. Black Rednecks and White Liberals by, Thomas Sowell

Summary: This explosive new book challenges many of the long-prevailing assumptions about blacks, about Jews, about Germans, about slavery, and about education. Plainly written, powerfully reasoned, and backed with a startling array of documented facts, Black Rednecks and White Liberals takes on not only the trendy intellectuals of our times but also such historic interpreters of American life as Alexis de Tocqueville and Frederick Law Olmsted. In a series of long essays, this book presents an in-depth look at key beliefs behind many mistaken and dangerous actions, policies, and trends. It presents eye-opening insights into the historical development of the ghetto culture that is today wrongly seen as a unique black identity--a culture cheered on toward self-destruction by white liberals who consider themselves "friends" of blacks. An essay titled "The Real History of Slavery" presents a jolting re-examination of that tragic institution and the narrow and distorted way it is too often seen today. The reasons for the venomous hatred of Jews, and of other groups like them in countries around the world, are explored in an essay that asks, "Are Jews Generic?" Misconceptions of German history in general, and of the Nazi era in particular, are also re-examined. So too are the inspiring achievements and painful tragedies of black education in the United States. "Black Rednecks and White Liberals" is the capstone of decades of outstanding research and writing on racial and cultural issues by Thomas Sowell.

Rating (out of 100): 100

Warnings: come to it with an open mind and ready to be challenged and think

Thoughts: The definition of economy is: the wealth and resources of a country or region, especially in terms of the production and consumption of goods and services. An economist is an expert in economy. For this reason, I don’t much care to read books written by economists. They tend to come across as superior and smug in their dissemination of facts. This was not the case with Thomas Sowell. Thomas Sowell has this “tell it like it is” way in which he tackles his topics. He follow facts, studies, statistics, public records, and is unapologetic in his delivery. He is a leader among men. His essays were thought-provoking, challenging, insightful, and, best of all, easily understood. He writes with authority, but without condescension. He writes as one who wants to help anyone with a desire to learn. I cannot wait to read more of him this coming year!

3. Theater of War: What Ancient Tragedies Can Teach Us Today by, Bryan Doerries (audiobook read by, Adam Driver)

Summary: This is the personal and deeply passionate story of a life devoted to reclaiming the timeless power of an ancient artistic tradition to comfort the afflicted. For years, theater director Bryan Doerries has led an innovative public health project that produces ancient tragedies for current and returned soldiers, addicts, tornado and hurricane survivors, and a wide range of other at-risk people in society. The originality and generosity of Doerries’s work is startling, and The Theater of War—wholly unsentimental, but intensely felt and emotionally engaging—is a humane, knowledgeable, and accessible book that will both inspire and enlighten. Tracing a path that links the personal to the artistic to the social and back again, Doerries shows us how suffering and healing are part of a timeless process in which dialogue and empathy are inextricably linked.

Rating (out of 7): 7

Warnings: recounting of death, war, and other tragic life circumstances

Thoughts: Buy the audiobook! The visceral heart and soul in the story is even more felt in the compelling reading of Adam Driver. There was pain, but there was healing. Tragedy haunts the world; it haunts each and every one of us in different ways. Stories of how others, real and fictional, deal with their hardships is helpful in dealing with our own, and finding a path forward.

2. A Sky Beyond the Storm by, Sabaa Tahir.

Summary: Picking up just a few months after A Reaper at the Gates left off... The long-imprisoned jinn are on the attack, wreaking bloody havoc in villages and cities alike. But for the Nightbringer, vengeance on his human foes is just the beginning. By his side, Commandant Keris Veturia declares herself Empress, and calls for the heads of any and all who defy her rule. At the top of the list? The Blood Shrike and her remaining family. Laia of Serra, now allied with the Blood Shrike, struggles to recover from the loss of the two people most important to her. Determined to stop the approaching apocalypse, she throws herself into the destruction of the Nightbringer. In the process, she awakens an ancient power that could lead her to victory--or to an unimaginable doom. And deep in the Waiting Place, the Soul Catcher seeks only to forget the life--and love--he left behind. Yet doing so means ignoring the trail of murder left by the Nightbringer and his jinn. To uphold his oath and protect the human world from the supernatural, the Soul Catcher must look beyond the borders of his own land. He must take on a mission that could save--or destroy--all that he knows.

Rating (out of 7): 7

Warnings: death, violence, ghosts, afterlife, sacrifice, loss, fade-to-black love scenes

Thoughts: One of the most satisfying conclusions to a series I have ever read. Truly. READ THE ENTIRE SERIES. SAVOR AND LOVE EVERY LAST BOOK!! AND KNOW THAT THE END IS THE BEST!

1. Letters to the Lost by, Brigid Kemmerer

Summary: Secret letters spark true love in this emotionally compelling romance from the New York Timesbestselling author of A Curse So Dark and Lonely, Brigid Kemmerer. Juliet Young always writes letters to her mother, a world-traveling photojournalist. Even after her mother’s death, she leaves letters at her grave. It’s the only way Juliet can cope. Declan Murphy isn’t the sort of guy you want to cross. In the midst of his court-ordered community service at the local cemetery, he’s trying to escape the demons of his past. When Declan reads a haunting letter left beside a grave, he can't resist writing back. Soon, he’s opening up to a perfect stranger, and their connection is immediate. But neither Declan nor Juliet knows that they're not actually strangers. When life at school interferes with their secret life of letters, sparks will fly as Juliet and Declan discover truths that might tear them apart.

Rating (out of 7): 7

Warnings: loss of sibling, loss of parent, alcoholism, mention of infidelity, mentions of previous physical and emotional child abuse. Overall darker themes dealt with in this book, but in such a compelling way.

Thoughts: There is a reason I have read this book seven times this year. It’s everything I love in a story. It is rich and compelling. It is moving and haunting. It’s adults being flawed, but still adults. It’s teens learning to grow, and also, to still be kids. It’s wonderful!!!!

#maereads #top10reads

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patrickstargang · 4 years

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Forgotten Past, Hidden Future (Legend of Korra fic)

Chapter 1: Looking In The Wrong Places

Chapter 2: Lucky To Have You

Chapter 3: A Lot To Learn

Chapter 4: Kya’s Story

Chapter 5: A Tale of Miazu

Chapter 6: The Avatar’s Love

Final Chapter: The Mural

The dining hall was alive with chatter, but this time it wasn’t just the Air Nomads. The room was filled to the brim with familiar faces. Friends, family, teachers, all together. A jovial feeling was permeating from every corner of the room. This was all after a very important day and a very important decision. Tenzin stood up, ready to make a speech like he usually does (though his speeches are usually for the other Air Nomads).

��Before we get the night started, I wanted to give my greatest gratitude to Korra. Because today she has helped shape the Earth Kingdom in a way that will affect its people for generations to come. Not only has she helped bring a proper restoration to decades of Earth Kingdom history, but now the Earth Kingdom has abolished its laws against open sexuality. We still have a long way to go before it's whole again, but these changes are getting them on the right track to a society that cares for its people rather than upholding the status quo. To Avatar Korra…… we are all truly thankful.”

The room roared with applause. Korra saw all the smiling faces turn her way, she even noticed Bolin trying his best not to be a blubbering mess. Mako and Opal were trying their best to keep him together. Korra also saw Kya, who she noticed was tearing up. She knew she was proud of her. It dawned on her that all that work she put into what was, at first, a simple curiosity was going to change things for the better.

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The celebration found its way out to the courtyard, it was later in the day and the dusk was coming over the city.

“I can’t believe you were out there changing the world AGAIN and you didn’t bring us along!” Bolin sounded surprised but in reality, he was just disappointed he didn’t get to go on another adventure.

Korra tried to contain her laughter. Asami, right by her side, was trying to do the same. “Believe me, you didn’t miss much,” said Korra through chuckles. “It was just a bunch of meetings and negotiations with Wu.”

“I mean, yeah….but still we could have been there to support you or something!”

“It's ok, I had Asami there with me. Sometimes it feels shes a better diplomat then I am.”

Asami nudged her on the side. “Hey don’t sell yourself short.”

“She's right.” Tenzin brought himself into the group. “After today, I remembered when you first came to Republic City.”

Korra winced at the thought of that first speech she made, it feels like an embarrassing memory from ages ago.

“But now, your helping settle civil issues for an entire nation, that's something worth celebrating.”

“Exactly!” Bolin added.

Korra laughed again, it was hard to comprehend how much she actually has done in such a short amount of time. Even with her three-year absence the reality of her impact on the world was starting to set in.

Kya also joined in on the group conversation. “Yeah, you kids did pretty well out there.”

“Well, I couldn’t have done it without your meditation techniques.”

Kya had a prideful but joking smirk on her face. Tenzin gave Kya a confused look, considering he was the one always trying to get Korra to meditate. He sighed and shrugged his shoulders. She was trying not to giggle at Tenzin’s slow realization.

Korra glanced at Kya, darting her eyes to the side. It felt she was giving her a silent signal. Kya gave her a knowing smile. “By the way Tenzin, I think Varrick got his hands on one of the glider suits. Said something about flying off the tower?”

“Again!?” Tenzin raced off, Bolin went with him just in case he needed help. Kya stayed behind, she looked at Korra and gave her an approving nod. Then she followed Tenzin and the others.

Korra took Asami’s hand as they made their way over to a private spot, the balcony overlooking the spirit portal. There were fond memories associated with this spot, like that day they agreed to take a vacation to the Spirit World. It meant something special to both of them.

“Did you just want to get some alone time?” Asami asked.

“Well, yes but there was something I wanted to tell you.” Korra’s face became serious but still affectionate.

“While I was talking to Kyoshi, I learned a lot more than just Earth Kingdom history. She told me a lot, like how Avatars aren’t the only people in the Spirit World. Apparently, everyone goes there after they die.”

“Everyone?”

Korra nodded. This little bit of information had some massive implications. Then Asami began to realize something.

“So, does that mean my mom and dad are in the Spirit World?”

Korra nodded again, she could sense a feeling of surprise and relief come over Asami.

“But that wasn’t the only thing Kyoshi told me. While I was there, she said that it was important to appreciate the ones I cared for, the ones I loved, while they were still with me. She said that while I have a responsibility as the Avatar, I should take the time to be with others. And I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately, now that all this Earth Kingdom diplomacy stuff is over.”

“Korra,” Asami said softly. She felt breathless.

Korra looked off to the side. “Gosh, I feel so silly. I haven’t even thought this through. I was only thinking about it this morning….but I know I can’t wait any longer.”

Korra got down on one knee. Asami’s eyes widened. Korra held her hand with a great deal of tenderness.

“I love you Asami, and I want to be a part of your life. I know this is all so sudden but I’ve had this feeling for quite some time now. It's hard to think about what life will be like years from now, but I want to be there with you for every step of the way.”

There was a long pause. Korra began to hear sniffling and laughing.

“Well, I guess it's my turn to cry today.”

Korra slowly got back up, still holding on to Asami’s hand. She waited patiently for a response. “So…...what do you say?”

“Honestly,” Asami reached for something in her left pocket, still trying to wipe away tears. “I was thinking the same thing.”

She pulls out a small black jewelry case. Korra’s eyes widen, it feels like her heart has stopped.

“I’ve had it with me for two weeks now. I just wasn’t sure when the time would be right.”

Korra could feel tears welling up, but they would finally release when she saw what was inside. It wasn’t an ordinary ring. The designs around showed many different Water Tribe symbols, but at the center was a metallic drawing of Naga. It was meticulous, like it was handcrafted. She could feel her tears dripping onto her hands.

“Wow,” Korra was at a loss for words. Korra began to laugh softly, but it was overpowered by her weakening voice. “I guess it's my turn to cry as well.”

They both laughed, trying to keep themselves collected. Korra buried her face in her hands. “Gosh, I feel so stupid. You made me this absolutely beautiful ring and I don’t even have anything to show for-”

Asami moved Korra’s hands away from her face and kissed her deeply. They held onto each other as they simmered in the moment. As their lips parted, they stared into each other's eyes. After a moment, Asami was the first to speak.

“You don’t need to get me anything. Being with you is a great enough gift as it is. Oh, and to answer your question…… my answer is yes. I want to be a part of your life too. And I promise I will always be there for you.”

They held onto each other for a long time, both red in the face and smiling almost non stop. No matter what doubts the future might bring, at that moment it felt like everything was right in the world. The only sounds now were the wind, Korra and Asami’s soft breathing as they embraced, and Bolin weeping tears of joy in the background as he and Tenzin returned in the middle of their proposal.

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The Maizu Memorial Site wasn’t on the grounds of the village since it was still converted into a mining town. But there was still a mostly untouched part of the woods in the Earth Kingdom that became the Memorial Site. It showed the history of Maizu while also promoting the traditions and culture of the original villagers. During this time, many who used to live in Maizu were making their way back, not just to see the site but to celebrate the abolishing of the old laws.

Korra and Asami took a vacation to see the site, along with Kya who felt like going down memory lane. It was early in the day, just the time before the crowds would get bigger. Korra and Asami were taking a trail that leads to a part of the Memorial Site that was dedicated to Avatar Kyoshi. Kya decided to stay behind to meet with old friends from her first visit to Maizu.

They held hands while they traveled down the trail, smiling the same way that they did when they first proposed to one another. When they finally arrived, they found a mural painted onto the smoothed side of a mountain. The left side showed Kyoshi in her iconic Avatar appearance, protecting the villagers of Maizu. It was grandiose, evoking the struggle to keep the village alive during its hardest times. And on the right side, it showed Kyoshi as she was. Without the makeup and headpiece, without the stoic appearance. She was accompanied by Rangi and Koko as a young girl.

Asami and Korra looked at the mural fondly, they felt the warmth of each other but also a relieving sense that this history can finally be known to everyone in the Earth Kingdom. They knew it couldn't be erased anymore. In front of the mural was a wooden board, that read:

“This mural is dedicated to Kyoshi, the Earth Avatar, and the Sacred Protector of Maizu. But this mural is also dedicated to the ones she loved. To her daughter Koko, and to Rangi, her bodyguard, teacher, and wife.”

Korra and Asami kept their grip on to one another. Just like Kyoshi and Rangi, they began to realize that they were inseparable. Korra knew that, no matter what happens next, Asami would always be there. And Asami knew that Korra would be there for her.

“I don’t think I want to go back yet,” Asami said playfully. “Let's stay here for a little bit.”

Korra gave her a little nod. They decided to sit down, in the same way that they did when they were meditating with Kya. But there was one difference. They were still holding onto each other.

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kyungsoomint · 4 years

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YOURS: Above & Beyond

credit to respective owners for photos

Member: Park Chanyeol (박찬열) / Byun Baekhyun (변백현)

Genre: Angst, Fluff & Smut (Later on)

Word Count: 2.1k

Notes: Hello everyone! I’m back. This idea has been in my mind for more than... a year? well unsurprisingly, I was very busy last semester. Like very busy, but still catching up with EXO. Well enjoy! Sorry if there is any mistakes, it’s been so long since the last time I write something:( OH, It’s CEO!AU

YOURS:

Next update: July 26

New York City, 3 am

The phone rang at the most unexpected time. It’s 3 in the morning, why would someone call so early. She realized when she picked up the phone, ‘Dad’ was blazing through the screen. She squinted her eyes before answering the call. “Hello?” She sounded drowsy. “Hello dear. Oh my god, did I wake you up?” Her foster father always forgets about the time difference between Seoul and NYC. “Um, I think it’s 3 am. But it’s ok, what’s the matter?” She tried to regain her soul from the deep slumber. “It’s very early! You have to work in the morning, I should call you later” sure, she needs to but he rarely calls in this hour. “No, it’s fine. I sense that you want to talk about something. I can smell it dad” she chuckled which earned a small laugh from him too. “So well, you know I’m turning 60 soon and also you know that I plan to retire when I’m 60 years old” there was a pause to the next sentence “And yeah, I need someone to replace my position here. I just want to ask you a favor, but please don’t be burdened, will you take my position? I couldn’t think anyone that can match your superiority” he sounded nervous, which rarely from him.

The world seemed to stop moving as she heard those words. (Y/N) just got promoted as a Financial Controller 6 months ago in Harper Collins. Pretty much she has achieved everything she wants. It’s all located there, in New York City. “(Y/N), are you still there?” His foster father seemed worried about her, knowing that it must hard for her since the majority of her life has moved to NYC. At the end of another line, she knew that she has to pay back everything that her foster parents have given to her for the past 20 years. But at the same time, she loves NYC. (Y/N) has achieved so much in her life, letting go is the hardest option for her to take. But then, she realized that it’s the only chance for her to repay them. “Um, it’s ok if you don’t want to I ca-“ she cut him off “I will try to figure out first with HC and I will let you know later on. Besides, I have never stayed in Seoul for a long time since 13 years ago” she tried to lighten the mood knowing that her dad might feel guilty for talking about this. “Dad? It’s ok, I can assure you that I’m totally fine and pleased to move back to Seoul for you” he let out a deep breath. “I’m sure you’ll do great in S&S” she knew that the company has treated her father nicely for years. “Ah, do you still have my CV? I bet you have lost it again” she virtually rolled her eyes. “How can you know me so well? Can you send it again to me?” He laughed at the end of the line. “Sure thing dad” she quickly grabbed her laptop and sent the CV to him. “Now you can go back to sleep, I’m sorry for disturbing you love” there’s always a hint of tenderness even if he’s not her real father, she was blessed to have him around. “That’s fine! Have a great night dad” she hung up the phone.

Seoul, 5 pm

“Mr. Kim Youngchul is here to see you sir” the phone buzzed as Chanyeol was signing some important documents that need to be sent tomorrow morning. The old man sat in front of him with a wide smile plastered within his face and Chanyeol noticed that he brought something for him. “Chanyeol, I hope that you remember I’m turning 60 in 3 months. Which means…” he chuckled. Chanyeol didn’t get what he meant in the first place, seconds later his body stiffen. “Don’t worry, I have someone to cover for me. It’s probably the best candidate I have in mind” he gave Chanyeol the papers. He quickly scanned the CV given, he realized that she is someone that he knows. “You are right, you know her, she is my foster daughter, (Y/N). She is currently working in NYC” Chanyeol returned himself to check on education background and working experience. It is said that she’s a Harvard Graduate major in Business and currently working in Harper Collins in NYC as Financial Controller. “You seem unsure about her” he laughed, Chanyeol sometimes still amazed that he knows what’s in his mind. “I know that she is young, even younger than you. But she is a very independent woman, smart and also stubborn, in a good way. Almost like you but in the form of a woman I might say” he smiled while talking about her, he’s very genuine to her.

“I couldn’t thank you enough for the opportunities that you have given to me, to Baekhyun and the company itself” Chanyeol smiled. Kim Youngchul was the man that gave the company the chance to be born. He introduced Chanyeol and Baekhyun to potential investors, simply because he believed in their potential of growing nothing into something. He even worked for the company to help manage the operational by being Chief Financial Officer. “Oh, it’s nothing. Trust me, I love working, especially here. Anyway, look at this company now. I saw potential inside you and Baekhyun. It’s all worth it for me” he glanced around the room, thinking that he might not come here again after 3 months. He loved to see this company grows with the founders. Chanyeol let out a deep sigh while still holding the CV, “she is a hardworking woman, like me, I raised her so that one I know for sure. Giver her a chance, Chanyeol” with that he left the room. He returned his focus into the CV, sure she has grown into someone else. He remembered the first time he met her, she reflects him in the way no one ever does. Chanyeol took out his phone, “we are going to interview someone that will replace Mr. Youngchul, be ready” he hung up and spun his chair facing the busy street down.

New York City, 5 pm

(Y/N) went home earlier than she ever been before, sure she tried to talk to Harper Collins about the 3 months prior resignation. They also tried to keep her around since her performance was exquisite. She placed her bag into the chair, took out the phone and texts her dad

To: Dad

I have talked to Harper Collins about my resignation. They weren’t very happy about it. I’ll be resigning in 3 months. I can go to Seoul next week or the week after, just let me know the date! Happy to see you again!

She took a bath, it has been a long day for her. It suddenly crossed her mind that S&S Co. is owned by Chanyeol and Baekhyun. Those two kids were giving ambitious pitching to her dad’s friends to be their investors. She realized that even though her dad works for them, she rarely meets them. So rare that she forgot he works there. One thing that she remembered for sure, how different Chanyeol and Baekhyun are.

Seoul, two weeks later, 6 pm

Sure summer here’s hotter than NYC, even at noon, she could feel the tingling into her skin. She saw a middle-aged man standing behind the railing, waving at her with a wide smile. That’s Byungcheol, her father’s driver. “Good evening, miss. How is your flight?” He took the suitcase from her hand. “Well, it’s quite good. Long flight, I’m used to that” he replied with a smile and drove her into her foster parents’ house. Inside, Kim Eunkyung, her foster mother already waiting behind the door, anticipating her return even if it’s only for a while. “I miss you so much” she hugged her tightly. “I miss you too mom” she chuckled, “now let me go please, I can’t breathe” she loosen her hug only to stare at her now-grown-up daughter. “You still look beautiful as ever, just tiny eye bags there and there” she pointed out her panda eyes hanging like she hasn’t been sleeping for weeks. Well, it’s only been 3 days though. “Now, stop nagging me, I smell something good cooking inside” she walked into the kitchen to find her favorite foods being cooked. “Of course, it’s a special day you know” she smiled at her. “You know, it means a lot for us, we want to spend the rest of our lives in our Jeju’s villa” she spoke dreamily. “Oh now cut off the lovey-dovey part, can’t bear to hear it” she closed her ears with her hands. “(Y/N) please! Maybe you will find someone here, someone to settle with. Who knows?” She came closer to her only to whisper “Just between you and me, the c-levels there are all very handsome young men”. There’s no doubt that she wants her to be married, she just never say it out loud. “Now mom, excuse me, I have precious food to be eaten and no time for matchmaking” she made her way down into the dining room, at that time her father arrived and greeted her happily.

“Are you nervous?” Her dad asked. She hummed and reply “No I’m not, I’m capable of many things. Besides even if I do, I won’t show it”. For the first time in 13 years, she will be back fully in Seoul after years abroad. Within minutes, they have arrived in S&S Co. building, mainly black interior. Pretty much the color that she likes. “I think it’s this one” he pushed the door of the meeting room. The room was designed with two rows of seats and one in front of the table. Her father sat at the end of the second row. “They should be here any minute now” and two men showed up, one with a navy suit and one with a black suit. She knew for sure that both men are good looking. One smiling brightly at her must be Byun Baekhyun, for sure. They greeted her father first before Baekhyun basically yelled at her, “Hello (Y/N). It’s been a long time!” He shook her hand vigorously which only earned a smile from her. “You do remember me right?” Baekhyun narrowed his eyes at her. “Of course, Byun Baekhyun. One that doesn’t change for sure” his eyes were sparkling like crazy knowing that she still remembered him. “Junmyeon, she remembers me”, giving the man loud pats in his shoulder. “I’m sorry, my name is Kim Junmyeon, Chief HR Officer here” he extended his hand and she shook it. “I’m Byun Baekhyun, Chief Operating Officer” he grinned. “So, let’s start the interview shall we?” Baekhyun turned his head into the current CFO, “go ahead, she won’t be budge with your question” he laughed. The interview went great, they mostly asked about her working experience, struggles, and problem-solving materials which she answered easily and with confidence. Baekhyun and Junmyeon were impressed with her skill, mainly because she sounded so confident and smart.

Halfway through the interview, Chanyeol entered the meeting room which made the room fell to silence. She observed him walking into the chair next to her father, sure this man has grown muscular, probably taller and more handsome? Suddenly thoughts running through her mind like crazy. She lost her focus for a while and snapped quickly after that. The rest of the interview went well, while Chanyeol’s eyes basically could burn into a hole pass her head. He seemed satisfied with how well the interview went. “Well, I think it’s an immediate acceptance, Yeol?” Baekhyun turned his back to face Chanyeol, Junmyeon gave them an approving nod. “See, I told you, this is why she is my laughter” a heartily laugh escaped him. “There is no doubt of it sir” Baekhyun gave two thumbs up for her. Suddenly, Chanyeol walked over past the table only to stand face to face with (Y/N). “Welcome to S&S, we’re looking forward to having you here” he shook her hand. She felt the dominating presence running through the air, she tried to control her own only to show respect to practically his soon to be boss.

“I’ll have her to look around here, come on Junmyeon” the three of them went through the glass door leaving the meeting room to Chanyeol and Baekhyun alone. “Isn’t she beautiful?” Baekhyun nudged Chanyeol to which Chanyeol didn’t give any response. He glanced back at Baekhyun only to say “Stop flirting in the office, Baek” he rolled his eyes. “No, I’m just being friendly” Baekhyun practically whine. Sure Chanyeol found her beautiful, just like how he sees her years ago. Yet something about her, always makes him uneasy.

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